THE  LIBRARY    / 

OF      '  / 
THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
MRS.  VIRGINIA  B.  SPORER 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE 

(EASTLOORN) 


BY 

S.    ULFERS 


TRANSLATED  BY 

B.  WILLIAMSON-NAPIER 


NEW  YORK 
E.   P.   BUTTON   &   COMPANY 

681    FIFTH   AVENUE 


(All  rights  reserved) 


PREFACE 

/  have  observed  the  beauty  of  a  farmer's 
life  among  his  meadows  and  cornfields,  under 
the  canopy  of  clouds. 

I  have  also  observed  the  beauty  of  a 
minister's  work  among  these  people. 

And  it  is  about  these  things  that  I  wish  to 
tell  you. 

If  there  be  a  moral  in  the  story,  so  much 
the  better! 


2042188 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I.    WIEGEN,    THE   DREAMER        .  ...         I 

II.    THE    SECESSION 62 

III.    HARDERS .      84 

iv.  THE  MINISTER'S  WIFE        ....  120 

V.  THE    GREAT    DROUGHT          .  .  .  -139 

VI.  AKE,    THE    MAD   WOMAN        ,  .  .    193 

VII.  ILTING,    THE   BELL-RINGER.  .  .  .    229 

VIII.  GOEST1NG,   THE   DEACON      .  .-  .  .    264 

IX.  EDO  .            .           .           .            .  .  .  .   295 

x.  DOUBT      . 355 


WIEGEN,  THE  DREAMER 

On  a  knoll,  amongst  the  tall  heather  which 
covered  the  undulating  moor  around  him,  lay 
Wiegen,  the  big  shepherd  boy,  watching  his 
sheep  in  the  valley  beneath. 

"Come  here,  Sipie!"  he  shouted  to  his  dog, 
who  away  in  the  distance  was  jumping  up 
against  one  of  the  sheep  and  had  bitten  a  tuft 
of  wool  from  its  neck. 

But  the  dog  refused  to  come  at  once.  He  was 
young  and  was  still  trying  to  find  out  who  was 
to  lay  down  the  law,  Ms  master  or  he. 

"I  shall  teach  you  to  obey  me  1"  Wiegen  said 
to  himself.  "Why  would  you  not  come  when 
I  called  you?" 

And  at  the  same  time  he  stuck  his  long  shep- 
herd's staff  with  a  small  iron  goad  at  the  point 
into  the  earth,  and  aimed  the  lump  of  sandy 
soil  which  he  dug  up,  so  directly  and  with  such 
painful  force  at  the  dog's  ribs,  that  he  left  the 


. 


2  WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

sheep  with  a  yelp  and  crept  up  to  his  master 
.with  drooping  ears.  He  lay  down  submissively, 
waiting  for  what  might  come,  all  the  while 
casting  furtive  side  glances  at  the  boy. 

"Tell  me  now,  what  Blackie  did  to  you  ?"  said 
the  shepherd  to  his  dog;  "why  do  you  not  like 
him  ?  Do  you  want  him  to  lose  all  his  wool  and 
have  a  'shorn  neck  ?  I  shall  break  your  legs,  old 
boy,  if  you  do  it  again.  Do  you  think  I  want 
Schepers  to  tell  me  that  I  allow  you  to  eat  up 
his  sheep?" 

But  Sipie  only  gazed  and  gazed  up  at  his 
master,  at  his  eyes  and  his  hands.  If  those 
hands  had  wished  to  hurt  him,  he  would  have 
avoided  them  by  a  side-leap,  for  he  was  as 
quick  as  lightning.  But  the  humble  hypocrite 
lay  there  quietly  as  if  ready  to  receive  the 
blows  in  a  penitent  spirit;  it  was  not  necessary 
to  jump  up  before  those  hands  moved;  he  was 
now  reaping  the  benefit  of  the  humble. 

Wiegen  stretched  himself  at  full  length  on 
the  hill,  and  forgetting  about  all  earthly  things, 
his  large  and  dreamy  eyes  roamed  over  the 
country  around  him,  and  over  the  blue  sky 
and  the  clouds  as  they  came  and  went. 

On  the  knoll  where  he  lay  stood  two  or  three 
birches.  The  old  trunks  towered  upwards, 
thick  and  crooked,  glistening  white  with  black 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE      3 

patches.  The  branches  were  white  and  glis- 
tening up  to  the  top,  where  they  changed  into 
brown  and  broke  into  a  hundred  thin,  fine, 
hanging  stems,  which  gave  the  trees  the 
appearance  of  weeping  trees.  But  this  was  not 
so  at  all.  A  cheerful  tone  prevailed  hi  trunks 
and  foliage,  delicate  green  foliage,  which  ever 
rustled  and  never  hung  still,  talking,  whis- 
pering about  a  thousand  things  which  happen 
on  the  moor,  and  of  which  only  the  birches 
can  know. 

"Oh!  go  on  talking  and  whispering,  for  I 
know  all  about  it,"  Wiegen  thought.  "Did  you 
imagine  I  did  not  know  that  quite  early  this 
morning  the  rabbits  sat  here,  and  that  they 
played  about  until  the  two  big  bucks  bit  each 
other,  while  the  does  sat  by  the  side  ?  And  that 
the  whole  troop  scuttled  off  head  over  heels 
to  their  holes,  because  the  hawk  shot  down 
from  a  height.  And  what  did  the  hawk  tell  you 
that  I  do  not  knowi?  I  know  it  all,  and  that  he 
sat  on  the  branch  looking1  across  the  hills  at 
the  marsh,  and  that  you  dared  not  say  a 
word  then." 

And  Wiegen,  lying  at  full  length,  gazed  up 
at  the  little  twigs,  which  laughed  and  nodded 
at  him. 

"But    I   know  something   that   you   do   not 


4  WIEGEN,   THE    DREAMER 

know/'  he  continued  pensively;  "you  can  look 
across  the  moor,  because  you  are  so  tall  and 
high,  but  you  cannot  move  from  your  places; 
you  must  always  and  always  remain  here;  you 
will  never  get  any  further!  You  cannot  get  to 
the  ducks  in  the  morning',  when  they  swim  and 
dive  and  skim  the  surface  of  the  water.  I  was 
there  early  this  morning;  they  were  sitting  on 
the  bank,  and  they  stuck  their  beaks  in  between 
their  feathers,  and  under  their  wings.  They 
wanted  to  make  them  oily  and  clean.  They 
took  out  the  dead  feathers,  they  did  not  want 
them,  for  they  let  them  fall  on  the  ground ;  the 
whole  bank  is  still  full  of  them.  And  you  did 
not  see  what  I  did,  you  sleepy-heads  I  They 
did  not  know  I  was  coming,  for  I  can  steal 
along  quietly  on  my  bare  feet  against  the  wiind. 
And  I  had  told  Sipie  to  keep  quiet,  and  I  hit 
one  with  a  stone,  just  on  its  head.  Look!  here 
it  is,  dead ;  do  you  want  to  see  it  ?" 

And  he  raised  Himself  up  from  his  prostrate 
position  and  took  the  duck,  a  large  and 
shining  one,  from  the  bag  beside  him. 

"Do  you  see  it  up  there?"  he  said. 

"No,  Sipie,  leave  it  alone,  go  away!"  For 
the  dog  already  had  the  feathers  between  hi's 
teeth. 

"Look,  it  has  a  red  beak  with  a  green  point, 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE      5 

and  the  wings  are  blue  and  white,  It  is  a  drake. 
And  do  you  feel  tKe  thickness  of  those  greyish 
brown  feathers  on  its  breast?  Wine  shall  have 
him  when  she  comes." 

And  at  the  same  time  he  put  the  bird  back 
into  the  bag.  It  migKt  be  that  the  village  poli- 
ceman was  sneaking  about  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. 

But  his  conversation  with  the  birches  was 
finished  for  the  time  being.  For,  sitting  up 
straight,  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  far  horizon 
over  the  low  range  of  hills;  and  he  gazed 
behind  him  in  the  other  direction.  One 
could  never  tell;  that  policeman  had  such 
a  stealthy  way  of  creeping  about. 

But  it  was  Wine,  there  in  the  distance;; 
he  could  see  her  skirt  blowing  about.  Now 
she  wa;s  climbing1  down  the  hill;  a  moment 
after  she  was  visible  on  the  next,  nearer  now 
and  so  it  went  on;  lost  in  the  valley,  and 
then  in  sight  on  the  hill  top;  but  always 
coming  nearer  and  nearer. 

"Here,    Sipiel"    Wiegen   shouted. 

For  the  dog,  as  well  as  His  master,  had 
discerned  the  girl's  figure  long  ago.  He 
knew  she  was  bringing  dinner;  the  dog  never 
mistook  the  time  of  day. 


6  WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

And  Wiegen  shouted  in  vain,  and  with  his 
shepherd's  staff  he  threw  a  lump  of  earth, 
which  did  not  touch  him.  The  dog  had  a 
master  and  a  mistress;  he  belonged  to  the 
one  as  much  as  to  the  other;  the  one  coming 
now  had  a  right  over  him  too.  And  the  boy 
saw  how  in  the  distance  the  dog  jumped  up 
against  her,  and  licked  her  hands,  and 
bounded  on  m  front  of  her  towards  him. 

"He  is  still  too  young,"  Wiegen  grumbled; 
"within  a  few  months,  I  shall  have  given 
him  a  better  training  than  any  other  shepherd 
hi  the  country  could  do." 

"Here  is  your  dinner,"  said  Wine,  without 
greeting  him,  for  this  was  not  customary. 
"Schepers  told  them  to  give  you  some  bacon." 

And  as  the  youth  untied  the  cloth,  he  saw 
a  plate  with  potatoes  and  bread  as  well, 
which  he  started  dividing  with  his  dog. 

The  girl  stood  leaning  against  the  trunk 
of  a  birch  tree;  her  strong  legs  did  not 
require  any  rest. 

"Have  you  nothing  to  say  to  me?"  she 
enquired. 

The  boy  was  busy  eating  as  if  she  were  not 
standing  there,  he  had  not  even  glanced  at 
her.  Had  he  looked  at  her,  he  would  have 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE      7 

seen  her  large  eyes  gazing  pensively  at  him, 
the  silent  one. 

"Why  shoultf  I  talk?  You  do  not  care 
about  the  things  I  tell  you.  Does  it  interest 
you,  if  I  tell  you  about  the  hawk,  and  if  I  tell 
you  about  the  rabbits,  and  if  I  tell  you  about 
the  birches?  You  did  not  care  either  when 
I  told  you  about  the  clouds.  Did  I  not  see 
it  quite  distinctly?  What  do  you  want  me 
to  say  to  you  then?" 

But  the  girl  did  not  say  what  sjie  would 
have  liked  him  to  talk  about.  Her  eyes  were 
eloquent  enough,  if  her  lips  were  not.  "That 
boy  is  blind  and  deaf,"  she  thought;  "a 
dreamer!"  And  she  pouted.  But  aloud  she 
said: 

"Surely,  you  know  that  we  girls  do  not 
care  about  a  hawk,  or  about  your  rabbits. 
Those  are  things  for  boys,  Wiegen!" 

He  looked  up  with  some  surprise  and  with 
a  placid  look  in  his  eyes;  more  placid  than 
Wine  had  ever  seen  in  the  eyes  of  any  other 
boy  in  the  village.  He  did  not  seem  capable 
of  understanding  in  what  way  a  girl's  wishes 
differ  from  those  of  a  boy.  In  order  to  show 
him  that,  her  lips  would  have  had  to  be 
pouted  still  more.  Now,  however,  he  only  saw 
a  haughty  and  cold  little  face,  haughty  with 


8  WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

disappointment;  and  yet  that  proud  look 
soon  passed  away. 

"I  have  thought  of  something,  Wiegen," 
she  said.  "You  must  have  your  hair  cut.  It 
is  far  too  long;  the  other  boys  in  the  village 
tease  you  about  it." 

And  indeed,  the  long,  black  locks  which 
fell  about  his  brown  face  and  almost  reached 
his  shoulders  made  him  look  like  a  gipsy. 

"And  then  there  is  another  tear  in  your 
coat ;  how  did  that  happen  ?  When  you  come 
home  with  the  sheep  this  evening,  you  must 
bring  it  to  me  and  I  will  mend  it,  for  your 
mother  cannot  do  it  any  longer;  her  eyes 
cannot  see  the  thread." 

And  Wfegen  had  a  vague  notion  what  the 
things  were  that  girls  thought  about  and  liked 
to  talk  of.  Did  Wine  like  to  hear  about  those 
things  ? 

"And  then,  I  have  thought  of  something 
else,"  the  girl  went  on  talking.  "You  are 
eighteen  years  old  now,  and  it  is  high  time 
that  you  should  stop  looking  after  sheep. 
Only  little  boys  do  that  sort  of  work,  and 
you  are  far  too  big  for  that.  All  boys  who  have 
looked  after  sheep  find  other  work  to  earn 
their  living.  And  you  cannot  do  anything  else  1 
Can  you  dig  the  ground  ?  Can  you  drive  a  cart 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE      9 

with  horses  ?  Can  you  reap  clover  and  rye  with 
a  scythe  ?  You  cannot  do  those  things,  Wiegen  I 
All  boys  marry  some  day,  and  then  they  must 
be  able  to  do  all  the  farm- work ;  but  a  shepherd 
cannot  get  married.  Looking  after  sheep  is 
only  fit  for  little  boys!" 

And  Wiegen  once  more  had  a  vague  notion 
what  the  things  were  that  the  village  girls 
thought  about,  and  liked  to  talk  of.  Was  it 
those  things  that  Wine  wished  to  hear  of? 

He  sat  there  as  one  who  has  been  allowed 
to  peep  into  another  world,  and  gazed  on 
that  strong  figure  against  the  tree  with  those 
covetous  eyes  and  those  wonderful  lips  which 
were  yet  bewitching.  And  it  was  as  a  seeker 
into  that  new  world,  that  with  innocent  curi- 
osity he  enquired: 

"Do  all  girls  talk  about  marrying,  as  you 
do,  Wine?  And  how;  old  are  you,  when  you 
start  talking  about  it?  You  are  sixteen,  are 
you  not?" 

A  deep  red  coloured  the  big  girl's  face, 
but  it  was  not  caused  by  shame,  for  her  eyes 
looked  angry  as  she  turned  to  the  boy,  who 
did  not  even  know  that  his  prosaic  ideas  of 
things  might  be  irritating  to  another  person. 

So  she  said  "I  must  go,"  and  wanted 
to  take  the  plate  and  the  cloth. 


lo          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

"But  I  want  to  talk  to  you,  Wine,"  the 
boy  said.  "Listen,  I  have  seen  something  again. 
As  you  stand  there  you  can  see  the  marsh, 
can  you  not  ?  that  wide  stretch  of  water  between 
the  hills?" 

And  saying  this,  he  jumped  up,  and  standing 
next  to  her,  almost  behind  her,  he  placed  one 
hand  on  her  shoulder  and  with  the  other  he 
indicated  the  expanse  of  the.  pool  from  one 
end  to  the  other. 

She  liked  to  feel  Wiegen's  hand  on  her 
shoulder,  and  she  thought  he  might  tell  her 
anything  he  liked  if  he  would  only  do  that. 
What  it  was  about,  mattered  less. 

"There,  on  the  water,  I  saw  a  boat  last 
night,  and  in  the  boat  stood  Peter,  Peter  the 
Apostle.  He  was  hauling  in  a  net,  with  great 
difficulty.  For  the  fish  which  he  had  caught 
were  people,  men  and  women,  dressed  in 
many  coloured  clothes.  And  he  took  them 
out  of  the  net  and  placed  them  in  the  boat, 
until  the  boat  was  quite  full.  'I  am  not  worthy, 
Lord,  to  be  a  fisher  of  men,'  he  cried,  'but 
if  it  be  Thy  will,  I  shall  do  as  Thou  sayest, 
Lord!'  And  he  steered  the  boat  towards  the 
shore,  to  where  the  pines  are.  'Come  out  of 
it,  all  of  you,  Peter  said,  and  the  men  and 
women  standing  on  the  bank  awaited  his 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     n 

orders.  'You  must  live  here  under  the  trees, 
without  houses  and  in  tents;  you  shall  be 
shepherds  and  live  with  the  flocks.  This  is 
the  new  life.  For  all  cities  shall  pass  away, 
and  all  towers  and  churches  shall  be  destroyed, 
and  you  are  the  new  kingdom,  which  shall 
be  built.'  And  I  saw  the  sun  shining  on  the 
coloured  clothes  of  the  new  people,  with  a 
red  light,  because  the  sun  was  setting.  But 
after  sunset,  when  the  red  light  no  longer 
shone  on  the  pines,  the  bright  colours  also 
disappeared  from  the  clothes  and  they  all 
looked  grey,  and  afterwards  even  the  figures 
vanished,  and,  when  I  looked  again,  there  was 
nothing  more  to  be  seen.  'Peter,'  I  cried, 
'Peter  1*  and  I  ran  to  the  pool,  but  the  boat 
was  not  there  either;  everything  had  gone." 
Wiegen  might  have  said  anything  he  liked 
if  only  he  had  left  his  arm  on  the  girl's 
shoulder.  But  now  he  had  taken  away  his 
arm,  and  he  stood  there,  almost  forgetting 
the  very  presence  of  Wine,  Not  a  glance  for 
her,  not  a  word  for  her.  His  large  eyes,  glowing 
with  enthusiasm,  gazed  at  the  distant  water; 
he  apparently  cared  more  about  a  white 
creature  of  the  mist,  which  he  had  seen  in 
his  imagination,  than  about  the  girl  of  flesh 
and  blood  who  stood  beside  him.  And  she 


12          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

turned  away  passionately,  as  if  she  meant 
to  go. 

"Silly  nonsense,  Wiegen,  it  was  the  evening 
mist  hanging  over  the  water  in  the  setting 
sun." 

"Wine,  you  do  not  understand."  He  drew 
himself  up  to  his  full  length  and  pointed  with 
his  shepherd's  staff  at  the  far  horizon.  "Do 
you  not  feel  it?  I  have  felt  it  such  a  long 
time.  A  new  time  is  coming,  the  old  time  is 
passing  away.  The  old  time  is  corrupt,  and 
mankind  is  corrupt,  and  the  Church  is  old  and 
corrupt.  Everything  must  become  new.  And 
I  must  go  and  preach  it  unto  all  nations. 
There  shall  be  no  more  cities,  and  no  more 
houses  and  no  more  churches.  Vast  flocks 
and  herds  shall  be  fn  the  fields;  and  no  one 
shall  call  anything  his  own.  New  people  shall 
dwell  on  the  earth,  beautiful  men  and  women, 
and  they  shall  have  all  things  in  common. 
And  God's  evening  glow  shall  illumine  all 
the  new  world/' 

"And  will  those  men  and  women  marry 
each  other?"  Wine  enquired. 

"I  did  not  hear  that  yesterday.  But  I  Have 
read  —  it  is  written  —  'There  shall  be  no 
marriage,  for  all  people  shall  be  as  God's 
angels  in  Heaven' "  And  he  was  on  the  point 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     13 

of  reaching  for  his  bag  under  the  birch  tree 
to  fetch  out  his  Bible. 

But  the  girl  had  never  before  been  so.  angry 
with  the  dreamer  as  she  was  now.  He  did  not 
see  it,  however;  he  was  looking  elsewhere. 
But  had  he  looked,  he  would  have  seen  a 
beautiful  girl,  with  a  face  on  which  pride 
and  scorn  fought  with  desperate  love,  a  girl 
who  would  have  loved  to  trample  on  that 
book  of  Revelation,  in  which  this  dreamer 
found  his  words  and  visions  daily.  She  could 
have  torn  the  book  out  of  his  hand,  thrown 
it  on  to  the  ground  in  the  mud,  and  kicked 
it  until  it  was  in  pieces. 

But  it  was  not  necessary.  For  instead  of 
a  Bible  a  duck  was  taken  out  of  the  bag.  The 
boy's  thoughts  had  quite  suddenly  taken 
another  turn. 

"Look,"  he  said.  "I  almost  forgot  this.  Here 
is  the  duck  which  I  caught  for  you.  But  don  *t 
let  the  policeman  see."  And,  as  if  the  subject 
had  not  been  changed  so  abruptly,  he  related 
to  her  the  history  of  the  duck,  which  he  had 
killed  with  a  stone. 

A  moment  later  the  girl  had  really  departed. 
She  walked  away  with  the  bird  under  her 
apron,  the  cloth  and  the  plate  in  her  hand. 
Sipie  accompanied  her  to  the  farthest  hill. 


14 .        WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

She  had  tears  in  her  eyes,  the  wild  tears  of 
one  wno  loved,  and  who  despaired  of  seeing 
a  new  life  coming  to  the  loved  one,  a  new 
life  in  the  way  she  understood  it. 

Wiegen  was  three  different  beings;  one  was 
the  boy,  who  talked  with  the  flowers  and  the 
birds  ^  the  second  was  the  dreamer,  who  saw 
visions,  where  no  one  else  saw  them;  and 
the  third  was  the  sleeping  one,  wnom  Wine 
could  not  awaken,  although  she  brought  him 
his  dinner  day  after  day. 

And  it  was  the  sleeping  one,  when  awakened, 
whom  she  would  have  loved  most. 

After  Wine  had  left,  Wiegen  had  slept  for 
an  hour  or  more.  He  had  lain  under  the 
birches,  stretched  at  full  length  with  his  face 
buried  in  the  heath,  his  hand  under  his  head. 
Why  should  a  shepherd  not  sleep  in  the  middle 
of  the  day,  when  a  faithful  dog  watches  the 
sheep,  a  dog  who  never  sleeps? 

But  he  was  awake  now,  and,  before  hie 
jumped  to  his  feet,  a  plan  had  ripened 
in  his  head.  He  whistled  for  the  dog  who 
was  keeping  watch  on  a  hill,  the  outline  of 
his  pointed  head  and  pricked  up  ears  clearly 
visible  against  the  sky. 

"Good    dog,    well    done!'*    He   stroked   the 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     15 

animal,  who  understood  everything,  and  for 
whose  education  caresses  were  better  than 
blows.  "I  am  going  for  a  swim,  Sipie,  are 
you  coming  with  me?" 

The  delighted  dog  bounded  on  in  front 
of  him  towards  tne  marsh;  he  had  come  to 
the  water  while  his  master  was  still  lingering 
on  the  highest  hill  and  looking  round. 

"I  can  safely  do  it,"  Wiegen  said;  "the 
sheep  are  lying  quite  peacefully,  and  Schepers 
will  not  come,  I  should  think.  There  is  no 
one  on  the  moor,  so  far  as  I  can  see.". 

And,  going  down  the  hill,  it  was  not  long 
before  he  also  stood  on  the  bank  beside  the 
water.  Sipie 's  moutn  was  full  of  ducks* 
feathers,  and  he  was  playing  a  game  with 
them.  He  let  them  go,  and  when  the  wind 
carried  them  along,  he  jumped  after  them 
faster  than  the  wind.  He  would  have  preferred 
the  ducks  themselves,  but  to  him  it  was  almost 
as  if  he  had  them  in  the  feathers. 

A  coat,  a  shirt,  and  a  pair  of  trousers, 
that  was  all  Wiegen  had  to  throw  on  the 
ground.  For  a  moment  he  stood  there,  his 
naked,  rosy  flesh  gleaming  in  the  white  sun- 
light against  the  blue  water;  then  he  plunged 
in  head  first,  diving  down  amidst  the  splashing 
water,  and  rising  to  the  surface  far  away 


16          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

in  the  middle  of  the  pool.  He  dived  and  swam 
with  such  speed  that  he  shot  straight  up,  the 
upper  part  of  his  body  appearing  above  the 
water.  A  laughing  young  rural  god,  whose  laugh 
was  veiled  by  dripping  water.  A  moment  later 
he  disappeared  again  into  the  deep  water, 
his  head  first,  then  his  body,  then  his  legs. 

The  dbg  looked  about  for  his  master  in 
surprise,  and  swam  about  the  spot  where  he 
had  disappeared,  seeking  for  him. 

"Here,  Sipie!"  The  boy's  voice  came  to 
him  from  some  distance,  where  Wiegen  had 
come  up  again,  holding  a  stone,  which  he 
had  dived  for,  in  his  hand.  "Find  it  I" 

And  the  dog  came  rushing  along,  but  did 
not  dive  for  the  stone. 

"Silly  dog,  will  you  never  learn  to  dive?" 
And  to  punish  him,  he  threw  handfuls  of 
water  against  his  head.  But  the  dog  revenged 
himself,  for  he  swam  up  to  his  master  and 
placing  his  paws  on  the  soft  flesh,  he  made 
long  scratches  with  his  sharp  nails. 

Then,  quite  suddenly,  Wiegen  disappeared 
again  with  a  few  strong  overarm  strokes, 
beating  the  water  into  a  foam  with  his  feet, 
so  that  any  one  standing  by  the  side  could 
not  have  seen  him  for  the  clear  splashing 
of  water,  sparkling  as  crystal. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     17 

Then  he  floated  with  stiff  feet  and  arms 
stretched  out,  his  eyes  closed,  a  white  water- 
lily  on  the  blue  surface. 

Afterwards  he  swam  races  with  Kis  dbg, 
so  that  the  wavelets  splashed  up  against  the 
bank,  and  the  sound  of  his  laughing  and 
shouting  echoed  against  the  hills. 

Then  he  sat  on  the  bank  in  the  sun,  his 
arms  clasped  round  his  knees,  Sipie  beside 
him;  licking  himself  dry,  as  if  he  were  not 
going  to  jump  in  again. 

"It  must  have  been  nice  the  way  John 
baptized  people,"  the  boy  thought,  as  he  felt 
the  pleasant  heat  of  the  sun  on  his  skin, 
and  stretched  himself  on  the  warm,  moist 

moss.  "What  was  it  I  read  yesterday? 

John  baptized  at  the  river  Jordan,  near 
Bethabara,  because  there  were  many  waters 
there  ? . . .  Yes,  that  was  what  I  read.  It  must 
have  been  much  nicer  than  being  baptized 
by  our  minister  in  church.  I  should  not  mind 
being  baptized  every  day  by  John . . .  But  — 
what  was  it  the  people  had  to  promise  if  they 
were  baptized  by  him  ?  . . .  Oh,  I  remember ; 
the  minister  told  us.  Well,  I  should  have  been 
quite  willing  to  promise  that;  to  help  him 
to  found  the  new  kingdom,  there  in  the  desert, 
far  away  from  the  cities.  Of  course  Jesus 


i8          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

is  the  most  beautiful  figure  in  the  Bible.  But 
I  like  John  best!  I  should  like  to  have  been 
John  myself!" 

The  idea  roused  Him. 

He  jumped  up  with  a  wild  leap.  He  sought 
for  the  big  coloured  handkerchief  in  his 
coat,  which  was  lying  on  the  ground,  and 
in  a  moment  he  had  tied  it  as  a  girdle  about 
his  loins,  in  between  liis  legs.  He  stood  there, 
his  black  locks  hanging  on  his  neck,  with 
the  long  shepherd's  staff  in  his  hand,  and, 
gazing  with  large,  almost  fanatic  eyes  to  the 
distance,  he  exclaimed : 

"I  am  John !  listen  to  the  word  of  the  Lord, 
all  you  children  of  men !  You  children  of  men, 
who  live  irv  the  East,  and  in  the  West,  and 
all  of  you  who  live  in  the  South!" 

His  voice  rang  over  the  wide  water  and 
resounded  in  the  pine  trees  on  the  other  side. 
He  fixed  his  gaze  on  those  woods,  those 
thousand  trunks  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
lake,  as  if  they  were  the  people  for  whom  his 
words  were  meant. 

"The  last  days  of  the  world  are  near!  The 
new  heaven  and  the  new  earth  shall  come. 
Everything  shall  be  consumed  by  fire,  the 
houses  shall  be  burned,  the  church  and  the 
school  shall  be  burned.  Mother  and  Wine, 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     19 

your  houses  shall  also  be  burned.  Come  to 
me  in  the  desert!  Here  I  shall  fojund  my  new 
community.  We  shall  live  in  purity  and  in 
safety.  Bread  shall  be  our  food  and  the  water 
from  the  marsh  shall  be  our  drink.  No  one 
shall  have  money.  All  the  gold  and  all  the 
silver  shall  be  buried  under  the  three  birches, 
as  were  the  idols  of  Jacob's  house  under  the 
oaks  of  Shechem.  We  shall  cast  off  our 
beautiful  clothes:  we  shall  all  have  a  girdle 
about  our  loins  and  nakedness  shall  be  our 
clothing.  Come  to  me,  all  you  people  of 
Eastloornl  For  the  flames  shall  not  reach 
here!  This  shall  be  the  inheritance  of  the 
Lord!  I,  John,  have  spoken  it!" 

The  fanatic's  speech  would  have  commenced 
again,  and  he  would  have  worked  out  his 
thoughts  still  further,  if  Sipie  had  not  bounded 
up  the  hill,  barking. 

John  the  Baptist  looked  in  that  direction 
in  great  astonishment. 

And  a  moment  after  he  saw,  appearing  above 
the  summit  of  the  hill,  the  minister's  grey 
head.  He  was  red  and  panting  with  the  effort 
of  climbing.  The  old  minister  of  Eastloorn, 
standing  erect  on  the  hill-top,  looked  taller 
than  he  was,  against  the  sky. 


20          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

"What  does  this  mean,  Wiegen?"  he 
exclaimed.  "Come  Here  and  tell  me  what 
pranks  you  are  at  now!" 

The  big  boy  obeyed,  and  climbed  up, 
without  remembering  that  he  should  put  on 
clothes.  The  old  man  looked  at  the  beautiful 
youth  with  secret  pleasure;  he  could  not  help 
being  pleased. 

He  had  sat  down,  tired,  and  Wiegen  lay 
down  at  his  feet. 

"Why  were  you  shouting  so,  Wiegen  ?  I 
heard  you  at  the  three  birches  where  I  thought 
I  should  find  you.  And  what  were  you  saying 
about  John  the  Baptist?  It  is  a  good  thing 
there  were  no  other  people  near,  or  they 
might  have  thought  you  were  not  quite  sane, 
Wiegen !" 

"Did  you  wish  to  speak  to  me,  Sir,  that 
you  looked  for  me  at  the  three  birches?" 

"Certainly,  my  boy,  I  was  over  there  in 
Ake's  hut,  seeing  her,  and  then  I  thought 
I  should  like  to  speak  to  you,  for  I  never  find 
you  at  home  wh'en  I  go  to  your  mother's,  and 
I  have  something  to  say  to  you  too." 

Wiegen  could  think  nothing  but  good  of 
this  man,  who  never  forgot  one  of  his  parish- 
ioners, and  who  came  so  far  to  look  for  him, 
the  shepherd  lad,  a  boy  of  very  little  impor- 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     21 

tance  after  all.  But,  according  to  the  tradition 
of  the  people  fn  Eastloorn,  he  did  not  tell 
the  man  that  he  thought  well  of  him.  These 
people  were  not  accustomed  to  say  straight 
out  anything  having  the  slightest  appearance 
of  praise.  And  the  old  minister  had  long 
since  given  up  trying  to  find  any  strength  for 
his  work  in  encouraging  words  or  praise 
from  the  members  of  his  church.  He  had  often 
thought,  with  a  laugh  on  his  old  face,  of  his 
colleagues  in  the  cities,  and  of  what  they  would 
do  without  the  smiles  and  handshakes  and 
kind  words  which  they  expected  from  their 
flock,  and  which*  gave  them  the  power  to 
continue  their  difficult  work. 

"Tell  me,  my  boy,  what  did  you  mean  by 
shouting  and  screaming  so  about  John  the 
Baptist?" 

"I  was  John  the  Baptist,  sir!  This  was  the 
desert;  and  I  had  a  girdle  about  my  loins. 
And  those  thousand  trunks  there  were  a 
thousand  people,  to  whom  I  was  proclaiming 
the  word  of  the  Lord!" 

It  did  not  occur  to  the  boy  that  he  was  doing 
anything  strange,  or  saying  anything  strange. 
Neither  did  the  old  man  fail  to  notice  that 
this  might  quite  well  have  been  the  figure 
of  the  great  Baptist,  when  as  a  young  man 


22          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

He  started  his  work  as  a  prophet  in  Israel, 
eating  locusts  and  wild  honey  in  the  desert. 

"What  were  you  going  to  preach  unto  the 
people,  Wiegen?" 

"I  feel  that  a  different  time  is  coming,  sir. 
It  is  not  well  in  the  country,  or  with  the 
Church.  If  the  nations  are  not  converted,  God's 
judgment  will  come  also  over  our  people  in 
Eastloorn !" 

The  minister  felt  a  little  uneasy  about 
what  would  come  from  the  mouth  of  the 
dreamer,  as  some  one  might  who  sees  an 
estimate  ma4e  of  'all  the  work,  which  he  has 
done  for  forty  years,  according  to  a  certain 
method  and  the  best  of  his  ability,  in  a 
community  which  he  has  ministered  to  with 
all  diligence. 

"The  Church  is  not  at  all  like  the  kingdom 
of  God  on  earth,  of  which  I  have  read  in 
the  Bible,"  the  boy  'siaid.  "Jesus  has  founded  a 
kingdom  of  heaven,  and  the  people  have  made 
a  Church  of  it.  You  must  know  that  too,  sir  I" 

The  old  man  looked  up,  surprised.  Who 
had  taught  the  boy  that  difference?  He  was 
Curious  to  know  what  the  lad  would  make 
of  it.  And  he  encouraged  him  to  pursue  the 
subject  by  asking:  "What  is  wrong  with  it 
then,  Wiegen?" 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     23 

"When  you  have  done  your  work  with  your 
pupils,  sir,  then  you  have  made  them  members 
of  a  church;  but  I  should  like  them  to  be 
members  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and 
afterwards  baptize  them,  here  in  the  marsh. 
But  the  people  prefer  the  Church;  it  is  easier 
in  every  way>  do  you  see?  When  you  become 
a  member  of  the  Church,  well,  then  you  go 
to  church,  and  you  believe  the  doctrine  of 
your  Church,  and  you  do  your  best  to  make 
that  Church  greater,  and  you  strive  after  the 
glory  of  the  Church.  But  the  world  does  not 
gain  by  it.  Trie  people  remain  the  same.  TEey 
all  seek  after  riches.  Just  think  of  this  parish] 
In  what  way  does  the  Church  alter  a  man?" 

"What   should   you   like   then,   my  boy?" 

"Away  with  the  ministers,  and  away  with 
the  elders,  and  away  with  that  stone  building, 
and  away  with  all  outward  show!" 

The  boy  jumped  up  and  stood  straight  in 
front  of  his  minister,  in  his  left  hand  his  staff, 
and  his  right  hand  stretched  out. 

"I  wish  for  trie  kingdom  of  heaven  upon 
earth !  If  the  people  would  only  do  what  Jesus 
said,  it  would  be  here  now !  They  would  begin 
to  love  each  other  with  a  great  love.  They 
would  not  wish  to  be  anything  special,  the 
one  above  the  other.  They  would  not  wish 


24          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

to  be  rich  farmers  or  to  be  in  the  town  council ; 
they  would  sell  all  they  possessed  and  give 
to  the  poor,  so  that  all  would  be  equally  rich. 
They  would  cast  off  their  beautiful  clothes 
and  do  away  with  all  nice  food.  They  would 
not  be  happy  unless  they  saw  others  happy, 
they  would  not  wish  to  become  soldiers,  and 
there  would  be  no  more  generals  or  kings, 
either.  They  would  all  be  shepherds  and 
farmers,  and  there  woutd  be  no  more  cities; 
they  would  all  live  in  small  villages.  And 
each  man  would  go  about  with  his  Bible  in 
his  pocket,  enquiring  each  day  what  that 
book  told  him  to  do.  But  I  know  quite  well 
wEy  the  people  do  not  wish  it,  my  kingdom 
of  heaven!  The  Church  is  a  thing  which  can 
be  seen!  And  the  kingdom  is  the  new  life, 
which  cannot  be  seen!" 

The  old  minister  looked  at  the  excited  boy 
with  kind  eyes.  There  was  nothing  wrong 
with  the  theories  which  this  young  preacher, 
of  the  desert  was  proclaiming,.  The  old 
minister  himself  had  often  thought  about  such 
things  in  former  years,  when  he  had  just 
commenced  his  career.  But  he  had  grown  old 
and  he  had  acquired  a  new  insight. 

"My  boy,  you  do  not  know  the  history  of 
the  Church!  Neither  have  you  ever  read  any 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     25 

of  the  world's  history!"  was  the  dry  rejoinder 
to  Wiegen's  idealism. 

"What  is  that,  the  history  of  the  Church?" 
the  boy  enquired. 

<:It  is  all  that  has  happened  to  the  Church 
in  former  years.  There  have  been  many  boys 
and  men  who  thought  as  you  do.  Such  notions 
always  arise  at  certain  times.  One  can  calculate 
when  such  notions  must  arise  again  in  the 
same  way  as  one  can  count  upon  an  eclipse 
of  the  moon  with  certainty.  Look  here, 
Wiegen,  ever  since  Jesus  was  born,  there  have 
been  people  who  wished  to  establish  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  upon  earth  in  the  way  you 
mean.  Some  have  wished  to  do  it  with  the 
Bible  in  their  hand,  as  you  do.  Others  have 
wished  to  do  it  without  that  Bible,  and  they 
would  like  to  do  that  at  the  present  time. 
And  some  have  tried  to  do  it  here,  in  the 
midst  of  civilized  society;  but  others  have 
tried  it  far  away  in  the  plains  and  the  woods 
of  warm  countries,  where  they  could  go  about 
naked,  and  where  the  juicy  fruit  hung  on 
the  branches.  But  none  of  those  small  kingi- 
doms  ever  came  to  anything;  they  all  passed 
away  —  sometimes  in  ten  years,  sometimes 
even  in  thirty  days.  And  all  those  people 
who  started  such  things  did  it  because  they 


26          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

knew  nothing  about  history.  You  do  not  know 
the  history  of  mankind,  either,  Wiegen!" 

"But  why  should  it  not  be  possible?  Every 
failure  brings  us  nearer  to  the  last  attempt; 
and  that  will  finally  be  the  successful  one!" 

"I  should  like  to  explain  to  you  why  it 
is  not  possible;  but  would  you  understand  it, 
my  boy?  You  may  still  be  too  young  to  under- 
stand. Look  here;  it  is  love  which  prevents 
it  When  a  man  and  a  woman  begin  to  love 
each  other,  to  love  each  other  truly,  and  then 
get  married  and  have  children,  a  small  king- 
dom is  formed,  'which  learned  people  call  a 
state  in  the  state.  According  to  your  conception, 
that  small  kingdom  is  in  the  way  of  the  great 
Kingdom  of  Heaven.  The  small  interests  are 
obstacles  to  the  great  interests.  That  man  and 
woman,  who  love  each  other  and  who  love 
their  children,  cannot  help  it,  yet  it  is  the 
case.  The  family  is  the  greatest  enemy  of 
socialistic  states,  for  that  is  what  we  sometimes 
call  those  small  kingdoms;  and  Socialism  is 
the  greatest  enemy  of  the  family.  And  because 
the  inclination  of  the  human  heart  has  always 
been  towards  the  family,  no  small  socialistic 
state  could  ever  hold  its  own.  They  have  all 
perished.  The  love  for  wife  and  children  was 
always  greater  than  the  love  for  the  kingdom. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     27 

The  family  interest  is  always  of  greater 
importance  than  the  general  interest.  It  is 
the  family  which  will  always  destroy  all 
so-called  kingdoms  of  heaven.  Only  where  the 
people  cease  .wishing  for  a  family  can  a 
socialistic  state  be  possible.  Do  you  understand 
now  why  I  said  that  the  love  between  man 
and  woman  must  prevent  such  kingdoms 
of  heaven  ever  existing  upon  earth?" 

The  old  man  hesitated  about  continuing  to 
say  that  which  the  boy  could  not  possibly 
understand.  But  he  went  on,  if  it  were  only 
to  formulate  his  ideas  for  himself  and  to  put 
them  into  words. 

"Only  where  there  is  no  love  of  man  towards 
woman  would  it  perhaps  be  possible  to 
establish  that  kingdom:  but  love  cannot  be 
reasoned  away.  And  also  where  one  man  loves 
more  than  one  woman,  and  vice  versa,  it 
would  be  possible  to  establish  such  a  kingdom, 
and  that  has  been  done.  But  you  will  under- 
stand that  such  a  state  cannot  exist  long. 
And  so  it  has  come  about  that  wie,  dwellers 
upon  earth,  never  enjoy  the  sight  long  of 
those  so-called  kingdoms  of  heaven.  But  what 
am  I  saying  to  you,  a  boy  of  eighteen!  You 
do  not  understand  it  at  all,  do  you?  Your 
love  has  been  no  other  than  a  love  for  the 


28          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

trees  and  for  the  clouds,  and  for  the  birds; 
is  it  not  so,  Wiegen?" 

Trie  old  minister  had  always  been  accus- 
tomed to  say  things  to  the  members  of  his 
church,  even  if  they  did  not  understand  him. 
He  had  never  agreed  with  his  colleagues, 
who  always  thought  it  necessary  to  preach 
and  talk  to  their  people  in  perfectly  simple 
and  childish  language.  "Do  not  think  too  little 
of  their  intellect,"  he  always  said.  "Treat  them 
according  to  a  high  standard;  it  is  fallow  soil, 
for  the  greater  part,  and  if  you  sow  in 
that  soil  you  will  find  the  harvest  is  greater 
than  from  another  soil,  which  is  cultivated  every 
year!"  And  he  was  very  seldom  disappointed. 

There  was  a  confused  expression  on  the 
boy's  face,  as  of  one  who  understands,  and 
yet  does  not  understand.  "But  I  should  like 
to  know,  sir,  wjiat  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is, 
that  you  sometimes  preach  about  on  Sundays, 
and  of  which  I  have  read  in  the  Bible." 

"You  can  understand  that,  Wiegen,  and  I 
will  tell  you.  The  kingdom  of  heaven,  which 
John  meant  and  of  which  Christ  spoke,  is 
righteousness  I  Where  righteousness  is,  there 
is  the  kingdom.  And  that  righteousness  can 
be  there  with  raiment  of  camel's  hair  and 
without  that  raiment.  That  righteousness  can 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     29 

be  in  the  rich  farmer  and  in  the  poor  farmer. 
It  can  be  in  the  town  counsellor  and  in  the 
shepherd.  It  can  be  in  the  soldier  and  in  the 
elder.  It  can  be  in  the  church  and  out  of  the 
church.  The  kingdom  is  within  you.  Say  in 
future :  '"I  will  preach  righteousness  I"  and 
you  will  do  more  to  hasten  the  coming  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  as  Jesus  wished  it,  than 
you  would  by  reforming  the  world.  Have  you 
never  read,  Wiegen;  'the  kingdom  is  not  food 
and  drink,  but  righteousness  and  peace,  and 
joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost  ?' " 

"Lord,  what  wilt  Thou  have  me  to  do  ?" 
the  young  man  cried  in  despair,  fixing  his 
large  eyes  upon  the  sky  and  pointing  towards 
the  horizon  with  his  shepherd's  staff. 

"That  you  put  on  your  clothes  again, 
Wiegen,  and  that  you  preach  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  in  a  coat  and  a  pair  of  trousers, 
and  in  looking  after  your  sheep!"  the  minister 
said  with  a  laugh. 

Tfiere  was  a  blush  of  shame  on  the  boy's 
face,  and,  as  one  who  has  suddenly  come  to 
his  senses  and  whose  eyes  have  been  opened, 
he  crept  to  the  place  where  his  clothes  lay. 

When  he  returned,  the  old  man  said,  as 
he  placed  his  hand  on  his  shoulder:  "Wiegen^ 
you  should  leave  the  sheep  to  smaller  boys 


30          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

now;  it  is  high  time  that  you  should  become 
a  labourer.  You  get  lost  here  on  the  moor.  You 
must  go  back  to  real  life." 

"That  is  what  Wine  said  to  me  this  morning 
too,"  the  young  man  answered,  and  his  wide 
eyes  looked  into  those  of  his  shepherd. 

A  moment  after,  the  old  man  left  him  and 
walked  towards  the  village,  across  the  hills. 
And  two  questions  were  constantly  in  his 
mind.  The  first  was :  "Why  did  Wine  say  that 
to  him?  What  did  (she  want  from  that  boy?" 
The  old  man  had  good  eyes  to  look  into  the 
heart  of  a  young  girl. 

And  the  second  question  was:  "How  is  it 
that  Socialism,  Christian  or  unchristian  Socia- 
lism, is  by  nature  in  the  heart  of  man,  even 
when  he  does  not  know  it  himself?"  He  was 
not  long  in  finding  the  answer,  but  he  was  not 
so  quick  about  finding  the  remedy  to  cure 
the  people  against  their  will. 

A?  for  Wiegen,  —  the  minister  did  not 
consider  him  strange  at  all.  He  thought  him 
one  of  the  most  natural  boys  in  his  parish. 

It  was  on  the  village-square  that  the  men 
gathered  together  in  the  evenings  to  talk  over 
the  affairs  of  the  day. 

The     Square     was     in    the    centre   of    the 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     31 

village.  In  former  times,  when  Eastloorn  was 
not  yet  a  village,  there  was  a  country  road 
from  North  to  South,  through  dark  woods, 
and  on  that  spot  stood  the  house  wjhere  the 
weary  traveller  entered  to  rest  either  himself 
or  his  horse,  for  he  had  many  miles  to  go 
before  he  reached  the  next  house,  far  beyond 
the  moor.  And  the  road  which  led  from  the 
East  to  the  West  formed  a  cross-road  there. 
In  the  course  of  years  other  houses  were 
built  round  about  it.  But  the  original  house 
was  always  considered  the  centre  of  the 
community  When  it  was  thought  necessary  to 
build  a  churcn,  the  church  was  built  there.  Then 
there  was  not  a  doubt  left  that  the  centre  of  the 
village  was  near  the  old  house  at  the  cross-roads. 
And  that  idea  still  prevails  to  the  present  day. 

There  were  some  very  high  trees  on  the 
Square. 

They  were  old  oaks,  and  none  of  the  old 
people  in  the  community  had  seen  them 
planted ;  Anen,  the  father  of  Brugt,  the  carrier, 
had  always  known  then  as  thick  as  that;  and 
the  man  was  ninety  years  old.  They  were  as 
high  as  the  roof  of  the  church;  only  the  tower 
could  be  seen  above  the  foliage. 

And  no  one  ever  suggested  that  those  trees 
should  be  felled.  In  other  cases  the  farmers 


32          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

were  always  very  careful  not  to  let  a  tree  grow 
too  old;  they  made  money  of  it  before  the 
wood  began  to  lose  its  value.  But  not  the 
oaks  on  the  Square,  for  the  village  would 
no  longer  have  been  the  village  if  they  had 
been  cut  down  and  new  young  trees  planted 
instead.  All  the  villages  in  the  neighbourhood, 
and  those  far  away  in  Overijsel,  had  a  Square 
with  oaks.  Asmus,  the  German  merchant,  who 
visited  all  the  villages,  even  those  in  Groninger- 
land,  had  asserted  that,  if  there  were  no  Square, 
it  was  a  sign  that  the  villages  were  of  a  late 
period,  and,  therefore,  had  no  distinguishing 
feature. 

And  there,  under  the  oaks,  stood  the  large 
pump  of  Eastloorn.  The  girls  came  to  and  fro 
with  their  pails  to  pump  up  the  pure,  deep 
water.  The  water  came  from  a  depth  of  a 
hundred  feet,  Baalder,  the  carpenter,  always 
said;  and  he  had  been  told  by  his  father, 
who  had  changed  the  old  well  into  a  pump 
with  a  sucker  and  handle.  The  girls  were  never 
in  a  hurry  with  their  pails,  neither  did  they  go 
away  at  once  when  the  pails  were  full.  They 
always  helped  each  other,  for  it  was  hard  work ; 
and  there  was  always  much  to  talk  about. 

Quite  near  the  pump,  under  the  thickest 
tree,  stood  the  seat,  —  stood  two  seats,  in  fact, 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     33 

where  the  village  boys  generally  sat  with  their 
feet  on  the  bench,  using  the  back  to  sit  on. 
Then  the  pumping  always  lasted  much  longer, 
and  the  well  seemed  to  be  twice  as  deep  as 
at  other  times. 

It  was  Sunday  evening,  and,  one  by  one,  a 
man  had  come  out  of  his  house,  and  then 
another,  and  yet  another;  and  another.  They 
sat  down  on  the  seat,  and  stood  beside  it,  these 
six  or  seven  men,  in  the  way  they  had  been 
accustomed  to  all  their  days. 

There  was  Wendel,  the  elder;  and  Schepers, 
another  elder,  whose  house  stood  far  away, 
beyond  the  inhabited  part  of  the  community; 
and  Goesting,  whose  farm  was  on  the  moor 
among  the  pinewoods  on  the  North  side  and 
on  the  outskirts  of  Southloorn;  and  Iken,  who 
was  a  memoer  of  the  Town  Council;  and 
Dreese,  the  grocer,  for  he  had  seen  that  the 
others  were  there,  and  he  belonged  to  the  party 
from  of  old.  They  all  smoked  short  pipes  and 
could  talk  without  taking  the  pipe  from 
their  mouths. 

"I  wish  you  could  help  me,"  Schepers  said, 
interrupting  the  conversation  which  had 
already  been  started;  "you  know  Wiegen,  my 
servant,  who  looks  after  the  sheep?" 

3 


34          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

"The  dreamer!"  two  of  them  shouted 
simultaneously. 

"Yes,  the  dreamer!  He  is  eighteen  years 
old  now  and  still  a  shepherd  boy.  I  have 
been  telling  him  for  two  years  that  it  was 
time  for  him  to  stop,  but  he  would  not.  Now, 
I  had  the  minister  with  me  yesterday,  and 
he  told  me  I  must  make  him  take  to  some- 
thing else  even  if  he  does  not  wish  it.  And  the 
minister  is  right,  for  it  is  high  time  that  the 
boy  was  taught  something  about  farming; 
otherwise  it  will  be  too  late  and  he  will  grow 
up  a  ne'er-do-well.  -But,  of  course,  I  cannot 
let  him  go  before  I  have  found  something  else 
for  him.  Who  is  there  in  the  community  who 
could  make  use  of  the  boy?" 

It  was  the  custom  in  Eastloorn  that  a  man 
should  think  of  his  neighbour  and  that  he 
should  think  well  of  him.  When  these  ol'd 
men  met  together  on  the  Square  in  the 
evenings  many  things  were  discussed,  which 
afterwards  became  deeds,  and  they  were  good 
deeds.  There  the  servants  were  changed; 
there  the  orphans  were  boarded  out; 
there  the  loans  which  a  poor  man  might  require 
for  the  year  were  agreed  upon,  and  who 
should  advance  those  loans;  there  the  new 
members  of  the  Town  Council  or  the  new 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     35 

Church-wardens  were  chosen  in  time  for  the 
next  election;  there  they  considered  what 
should  be  done  in  the  moorland  polder,  and 
which  roads  had  to  be  improved;  so  that, 
when  afterwards  Church-wardens  and  Town 
Councillors  met,  everything  was  ready  and 
worked  out;  these  important  meetings  only 
sanctioned  what  had  been  discussed  and 
agreed  upon  by  the  men  on  the  Square. 

"It  will  be  difficult,"  Goesting  answered. 
"Who  will  take  this  boy,  when  every  other 
lad  is  better,  and  ready  for  his  work?" 

"To  have  dreams  and  visions  is  a  work 
that  has  never  been  well  paid,"  said  Dreese, 
"since  the  kings  of  Egypt  and  Babylon  have 
ceased  to  exist.  Were  it  not  that  Joseph  and 
Daniel  had  kept  up  the  honour  of  their 
comrades,  the  others  would  have  been  sent 
away  by  their  lords  long  before!" 

"He  who  takes  Wiegen  into  his  service  can 
be  certain  that  he  does  not  get  any  one  like 
Joseph  or  Daniel;  those  were  clear-headed 
fellows,  but  this  is  a  muddle-headed  youngster." 

"Yet  everyone  will  ha»ve  to  agree  that  he 
is  a  good  lad;  he  knows  his  Bible  as  few 
others  in  the  parish  do,  even  among  the  older 
people.  And,  although  every  other  boy  of  his 
age  runs  after  the  girls  in  his  spare  time,  he 


36          WIEGEN,   THE    DREAMER 

sits  with  his  mother.  And  he  has  never  yet 
entered  the  public  house." 

"He  had  another  vision  last  night,"  Schepers 
said;  "I  got  it  out  of  him.  He  was  busy  driving 
the  sheep  into  the  fold;  it  was  late  and  almost 
dark.  As  he  was  counting,  one,  two,  three, 
and  so  on,  while  he  let  them  into  the  fold,  an 
angel  came  flying  from  the  West,  a  fiery 
angel,  straight  through  the  heavens  in  the 
direction  of  the  fold,  towards  the  East.  The 
light  was  so  strong  that  the  earth  was  illumined 
by  it,  and  Wiegen  saw  the  brilliancy  of  it  on 
his  clothes  and  on  the  wool  of  the  sheep;  the 
light  streamed  in  at  the  door  and  lighted  up 
the  farthest  corner  of  the  fold.  He  dared 
not  look  up,  but  he  could  see  by  the  lichf  on 
the  ground  that  the  angel  flew  fast.  Neither 
did  he  look  up  when  he  heard  the  angel's 
voice.  'Purify  the  Church  of  the  Lord!'  the 
angel  cried ;  'convert  the  earth  and  its  nations ; 
they  who  bring  about  righteousness  shall  be 
the  kingdom!'  Wiegen  was  so  confused  that 
he  had  to  count  all  the  sheep  over  again, 
for  he  could  not  remember  the  last  number." 

"It  must  have  been  a  falling  star,"  Dreese 
said,  with  a  laugh,  "a  falling  star,  such  as  we 
have  seen  before.  Who  can  make  use  of  such 
a  boy  for  work?" 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     37 

The  men  had  not  noticed  that  a  girl  had 
approached  the  pump,  carrying  her  pails.  It 
was  Wine,  who  had  to  fetch  water  for  her 
mother,  and  at  the  same  time  for  Wiegen's 
mother.  She  had  finished  some  time  ago, 
but  she  lingered,  still  busy;  those  pails 
seemed  never  to  be  full.  But  none  of  the 
men  glanced  at  her,  they  were  top  deep  in 
conversation. 

"I  think,"  Wendel  remarked,  "that  Goesting 
should  take  him.  Let  Goesting  do  it.  No  one 
has  so  much  patience  as  Goesting;  when  he 
has  had  him  for  a  year  or  two,  Wiegen  will 
probably  be  able  to  dig  the  ground,  and  he  will 
also  be  able  to  manage  the  horses  and  the 
plough  and  all  the  other  things  that  a  good 
farm-labourer  should  know.  Wiegen  will  not 
like  to  be  with  any  one  in  the  village,  he  does 
not  care  for  the  chatter  of  the  other  boys; 
but  the  life  on  the  moor,  with  you,  Goesting, 
will  please  him.  Then  he  will  be  among  the 
pine-woods.  He  will  imagine  that  he  can  dream 
there,  but  hard  work  will  soon  cure  him 
of  that." 

The  other  men  were  all  of  the  same  opinion, 
and  enlarged  upon  the  subject,  so  that  Goes- 
ting  ended  by  saying:  "If  you  all  think  that 
he  should  come  to  me,  then  it  will  have  to 


38          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

be,  and  I  have  no  objections.  Send  him  to 
me  after  Easter,  Schepers." 

"Look  here,  why  afe  you  listening  ?"  Dreese 
exclaimed  suddenly,  for  he  had  caught  sight 
of  the  young  girl.  "Would  you  not  like  to 
put  in  a  word  or  two  when  we  are  talking 
about  the  boys?" 

The  big  girl's  face  -crimsoned.  She  wanted 
to  lift  the  pails  from  the  ground  and  go  away. 
But  a  sudden  thought  made  her  put  them 
down  again,  and  going  up  to  the  men  she 
looked  straight  into  Goesting's  eyes  and  said: 
"I  thank  you,  Goesting,  that  you  will  do  what 
no  one  else  would  have  done."  Then  she  went ; 
for  her  own  words  made  her  blush  even  more 
than  Dreese's  words  had  done. 

"That  is  not  like  one  of  our  girls,"  Dreese 
remarked;  "which  boy  or  girl  in  our  village 
would  let  out  that  they  had  an  understanding 
with  one  of  the  opposite  sex  ?" 

"And  yet  I  know  there  is  no  understanding1," 
Schepers  answered;  "that  is  to  say,  if  love 
must  come  from  two  sides ;  for  Wiegen  has 
no  feelings  of  that  sort." 

"You  do  not  know  anything  about  that, 
Schepers,"  Dreese  said,  "you,  who  have  never 
been  married  1" 

No  one  could  see  by  Schepers'  face  what 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     39 

was  the  sad  answer  he  would  have  given,  if 
he  had  spoken.  For  who,  in  the  community, 
knew  the  history  of  the  elder,  who  had  also 
been  yoking  once? 

"It  is  silly  of  Wiegen,"  Wendel  observed; 
"one  must  be  a  dreamer  to  see  nothing1  of 
the  beauty  of  that  girl,  and  to  keep  any  one 
like  that  at  arm's  length !" 

Not  one  of  the  men  thought  that  Wendel 
had  said  anything  wrong  for  an  old  man; 
their  eyes  were  still  the  same  eyes  as  they 
had  had  thirty  or  forty  years  before. 

And  so  the  men  talked  on  about  what  they 
themselves  had  felt  long  ago. 

Under  the  trees  on  the  Square,  they  mapped 
out  the  lives  of  the  people  in  their  village^ 
patriarchs  in  thoughts  and  deeds;  until  the 
moon  shone  through  the  oaks  and  the  lights 
in  the  windows  urged  them  to  go  home,  where 
their  wives  and  children  awaited  them  for 
supper. 

And  after  Easter,  Wiegen,  whose  hair  was 
cut  short  now,  like  that  of  the  other  boys, 
walked  behind  the  cart  on  Goesting's  farm 
with  the  reins  m  his  hand,  and  he  worked 
with  a  spade  until  in  the  evening  his  back 
was  aching  with  the  unusual  labour. 


40          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

But  he  could  not  forget  how  to  dream, 
and  the  sleeping  person  in  him,  whom  Wine 
would  have  liked  to  awaken,  was  as  fast  asleep 
as  ever. 

Who  has  ever  heard  that  work  can  awaken 
love  ?  If  Wine  did  not  do  it  herself,  the  sleeping 
person  would  never  become  a  waking  one  I 

And  Wine  realised  this  during  the  course 
of  that  year;  and  she  realised  it  with  tears, 
which  she  sometimes  wept  far  away  on  the 
moor  and  sometimes  in  her  small  bedroom. 

And  when  two  or  three  years  passed  in 
this  manner,  she  despaired  that  there  could 
be  anything  about  her  and  in  her  which  would 
compel  Wiegen  the  man  to  triumph,  where 
now  Wiegen  the  dreamer  reigned. 


It  was  on  an  autumn  evening  that  Wine 
came  walking  up  to  Goesting's  farm.  A  fierce 
wind  blew  over  the  moor.  It  came  from  the 
North  West  and  brought  cold  rain,  which  it 
drove  acrose  the  hill.  And  the  wind  laughed, 
laughed  boisterously,  as  he  shook  the  oaks 
on  Goesting's  farm,  for  he  wanted  their  bran- 
ches, and  got  them  too.  And  he  laughed  as 
he  shook  the  fir-trees  beyond;  for  he  wished 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     41 

to  break  them  too;  but  they  only  swayed, 
being  supple ;  they  only  dropped  a  few  fir-cones 
to  pacify  him.  But  that  made  him  angry,  and 
with  a  fierce  howl  he  swept  on  to  fields  and 
coppice,  only  to  be  back  again  a  moment  after. 

He  played  havoc  with  the  straw  roof  of  the 
farm,  and  tried  to  carry  off  some  straw.  He 
made  the  most  curious  sounds,  sometimes 
high  up  in  the  air,  sometimes  quite  near  the 
ground.  And  he  made  the  cows  on  Goesting's 
meadow  quite  wet,  so  that  they  turned  their 
heads  away  from  him,  under  the  alders  which 
had  never  been  felled,  but  which  he  now 
felled  with  a  sharp  sickle.  Farther  on  in  the 
orchard,  he  scattered  the  apples  which 
Goesting  had  wished  not  to  gather  yet,  thinking 
that  they  might  improve  if  only  the  autumn 
sun  would  shine  a  few  days  longer.  And  away 
he  soared,  high  up  in  the  clouds,  which  he 
hurried  on  with  wild  leaps,  as  if  they  were 
sheep  who  could  resist  him.  It  was  the  first 
storm  of  that  autumn,  coming  from  the  region 
where  the  other  storms  waited  impatiently 
until  their  turn  came  to  rage  over  sea  und 
country. 

But  Wine  had  felt  neither  the  wind  nor  the 
rain.  How  should  she  know  that  her  head  and 
hands  were  wet,  and  that  her  clothes  clung 


42  WIEGEN,    THE    DREAMER 

to  her  back  and  her  strong  shoulders  1  The 
storm  within,  which  never  abated,  either  by 
night  or  by  day,  was  much  worse  than  the 
storm  without. 

She  did  not  go  towards  the  door  of  the 
farm,  but  in  the  direction  of  the  barn  behind 
it.  She  looked  in,  but  saw  no  one.  She  peeped 
into  the  stable,  out  the  two  horses  were  not 
there. 

"He  is  certainly  out  on  the  field  with  the 
plough,"  she  said  aloud.  And  then  she  walked 
to  the  fields,  the  plough-land  in  the  midst  of 
the  coppice.  Wiegen  drove  the  share  through 
the  rough  unploughed  soil.  The  two  horses 
were  in  front  of  the  plough,  and  the  tall, 
slim,  young  man  made  a  straight  furrow. 

Wine  saw  it,  and  she  could  not  help  saying : 
"He  is  as  good  a  farm  labourer  as  any  other. 
Look  how  well  he  turns  the  plough;  his  arm 
is  strong,  and  his  hand  firm!  They  are  young 
horses,  but  they  do  what  he  wants  them  to 
do;  he  has  a  grip  of  them!" 

And  for  a  moment  it  was  as  if  a  light  shotie 
before  her  eyes.  But  it  was  not  for  long. 

She  walked  over  the  lumps  of  sand,  with 
legs  wide  apart,  unevenly,  in  order  to  walk 
steadily  and  not  to  stumble.  The  soil  was  as 
rough  as  any  she  had  ever  walked  upon.  "How 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE    43 

is  it  that  those  farm  labourers  walk  just  as 
easily  on  it  as  on  a  level  road?"  she  thought. 

"Wiegen,"  she  said,  as  he  reined  in  the 
horses;  "I  have  come  from  your  mother.  You 
must  come  home;  she  is  much  worse.  The 
doctor  has  said  that  I  must  fetch  you." 

"I   knew  it,"  the   young  man  said. 

"How  could  you  know  it,  Wiegen  ?  Did  any 
one  come  here  to  tell  you,,  then?" 

"I  know  so  many  things  beforehand,  Wine. 
But  when  I  know  ft,  I  always  think:  'How 
can  I  be  sure  that  it  is  true  ?'  It  is  no  good  to 
me,  to  know  it  sooner.  For  in  any  case  I  have 
to  wait  until  the  moment  that  it  happens.  And 
then  every  one  else  knows  it  too.  That  is  why  I 
did  not  come  before  you  came  to  warn  me.'* 

"But  how  did  you  know  it  then,  Wiegen?" 

"It  was  in  this  way:  A  moment  ago  mother 
was  here  with  me  on  the  field.  And  she  spoke 
to  me;  she  said  to  me:  'You  will  be  alone 
now,  my  boy!'  That  does  not  matter,  mother,' 
I  said.,  'I  have  long  been  alone!"  But  why 
should  I  tell  you  all  mother  said  to  me?  She 
walked  beside  me,  next  the  plough,  up  and 
down,  from  that  end  of  the  field  to  here,  and 
from  here  back  again  to  the  other  end.  And 
sometimes  she  held  my  arm,  but  that  was 
difficult,  because  of  the  ploughing.  And  then 


44          WIEGFN,   THE    DREAMER 

she  threw  her  arms  round  my  neck.  I  felt 
her  tears  against  my  cheek.  A  moment  later 
she  was  gone.  I  did  not  see  her  any  more. 
And  so  I  knew  that  mother  was  going  to  die. 
I  really  thought  she  Was  dead  already,  and 
this  was  her  farewell." 

"Come  with  me,  Wiegen;  she  is  still  alive !" 

And  then  the  man  went  back  to  the  stable 
with  the  horses,  and  gave  the  animals  fresh 
grass,  throwing  it  into  the  manger.  And  he 
brought  in  the  plough,  for  fear  the  rain  might 
rust  the  iron,  and  he  looked  carefully  if  there 
were  anything  else  to  be  done.  Then  he  shut 
the  door  of  the  barn  and  said:  "We  will  go; 
come  along,  Wine!" 

"That  is  no  dreamer,"  the  girl  thought; 
"look  how  he  thinks  of  everything  and 
arranges  all,  as  every  other  good  farmer 
would  do." 

But  she  knew  quite  well  that  this  did  not 
tally  with  what  he  had  told  her  a  moment  ago 
about  being  able  to  foretell  events.  This  gave 
the  girl  something  new  to  worry  about 

Silently  the  two  people  walked  side  by  side. 
The  wind  blew  the  rain  into  their  faces.  Her 
skirts  were  blown  about,  and  she  had  to  put 
her  feet  down  firmly  to  make  any  progress. 
But  he  walked  as  if  there  were  no  wind;  his 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     45 

step  was  'the  step  of  a  strong  man,  Wine 
noticed 

They  did  not  speak  one  word.  Occasionally 
she  glanced  up  at  his  face,  which  had  a  set 
and  beautiful  expression,  beautiful  according 
to  her  ideas  of  manhood.  It  was  not  quite 
dark  yet,  so  that  she  could  still  see  it  well. 
But  she  thought  it  would  not  be  right  to  think 
of  such  things,  not  at  such  a  time,  at  least. 

And  then  she  looked  straight  in  front  of 
her  at  the  narrow  path,  taking  care  not  to 
stumble,  for  the  road  was  very  uneven  on 
account  of  the  heath  which  had  grown  over  it. 

As  they  went,  the  path  being  narrow,  their 
hands  occasionally  touched.  It  made  her 
tremble,  but  she  also  thought  that  it  was  not 
right,  this  trembling,  —  not  at  such  a  time, 
at  least. 

And  sometimes  she  wondered  whether  it 
was  right  that  she  should  walk  beside  him. 
Why  had  she  waited  for  him  ?  Why  had  she  not 
gone  on  while  he  was  seeing  about  the  horses  ? 
Now,  while  he  was  thinking  of  his  mother, 
surely  she  should  not  come  between  those 
two?  She  wished  that  the  road  were  wider, 
or  that  it  were  possible  for  her  not  to  think 
of  him. 

But  all  at  once  —  what  was  that  she  heard? 


46          WIEGEN,    THE    DREAMER 

—  He  was  sobbing;  Wiegen,  the  great  strong 
man!  She  could  not  believe  her  ears;  for 
the  men  in  Eastloorn  never  wept  when  any 
one  else  was  there.  They  were  all  strong  in 
$elf control.  She  had  never  been  able  to  under- 
stand it,  for  it  took  very  little  to  make  her 
weep.  She  was  always  ashamed  of  it  when  it 
happened;  but  she  could  not  help  it. 

There,  she  heard  it  again.  No,  it  must  have 
been  the  wind;  she  must  have  been  mistaken. 
But  she  had  to  look  at  him  once  more:  she 
must  have  certainty.  And  she  saw  that  large 
tears  fell  from  under  his  drooping  eyelids. 

And  she  did  not  know  what  she  was  doing. 

"Poor  boy !"  she  cried.  And  her  strong  arms 
were  round  his  neck  and  her  lips  were  against 
his  lips,  for  one  moment  wildly,  full  of  pity 
and  passion. 

But  she  immediately  realised  what  she  had 
done.  Her  arms  let  go,  she  gave  a  shriek 
of  shame  and  rusned  wildly  on  through  the 
.wind  and  rain,  leaving  the  young  man  in  blank 
surprise,  his  thoughts  about  his  motner  who 
.was  ill  and  dying  suddenly  mixed  up  with 
other  thoughts  and  wonderful  questions  which 
he  could  not  answer. 

A  short  tfme  after  he  stood  beside  his  mother. 

But   that   mother   was    dead.    It    had   been 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     47 

true  after  all;  she  had  come  to  him  outside 
on  the  fields.  She  had  not  left  him  without 
a  farewell.  His  mother  had  embraced  him 
and  kissed  him. 

And  then  he  thought  of  the  other  one  who 
had  also  embraced  him  and  kissed  him. 

A  few  neighbours  came  in  and  out.  He 
could  not  understand  what  they  talked  about. 
Most  of  them  were  women.  But  they  made 
him  understand  that  he  must  leave  the  room. 
When  he  came  back  later  on,  his  mother  lay 
straight  and  still  in  pure  white  clothes,  as 
was  customary  there. 

That  night  he  remained  alone  with  the 
dead  body. 

"He  does  not  wish  us  to  stay  there  to-night ;" 
the  women  said  to  one  another  behind  the 
barn.  "What  man  has  ever  kept  watch  alone 
with  a  dead  body?  That  is  a  thing  one  can 
only  expect  from  the  Dreamer !  But  leave  him 
alone,  if  he  wishes  it." 

It  was  past  midnight,  and  the  boy  still  .sat 
on  the  chair  which  he  had  drawn  up  close 
to  his  mother's  bed. 

A  small  lamp,  such  as  the  farmers  use,  bur- 
ned on  the  table  and  shed  its  light  on  the  face 
of  the  dead  woman,  for  Wiegen  had  pulled 


48          WIEGFN,   THE    DREAMER 

back  the  sheet  and  sat  watching  the  face  all 
the  time.  He  liked  that. 

It  seemed  to  him  as  if  she  were  asleep,,  and 
as  if  she  would  wake  up  afterwards  and  talk 
to  him  again.  He  liked  watching  that  face, 
it  lay  there,  looking  so  peaceful,  so  pure  and 
sweet.  Were  there  any  wrinkels  on  that  fore- 
head ?  No,  they  were  gone ;  a  pure  light 
illuminated  that  forehead. 

And  were  the  lips  still  so  tightly  pressed 
together,  as  the  lips  of  people  who  must  work 
hard  and  exert  themselves?  No,  the  lips  were 
apart,  as  of  people  who  need  have  no  care 
either  for  their  daily  bread  or  for  anything  else. 

And  the  eyes  were  closed  so  peacefully; 
if  she  were  to  open  them  again,  it  would  be 
with  the  look  of  some  one  who  has  no  more 
wishes,  because  all  wishes  have  been  fulfilled. 
And  then  those  eyes  would  look  at  him,  as 
if  they  were  saying :  "Wiegen,  my  boy,  I  am 
now  in  the  land  where  no  one  is  poor,  and 
where  no  one  suffers ;  you  must  come  here  too,; 
later  on!" 

He  heard  the  wind  against  the  window- 
panes.  He  looked  up.  "Those  windows  should 
be  able  to  stand  the  wind  a  few  years  longer; 
they  are  not  very  old  yet,"  he  thought.  "It  was 
only  last  year  that  I  mended  them;  but  it  would 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE    49 

mot  do  for  the  storm  to  became  worse; 
otherwise  my  roof  might  be  damaged;  ajid 
what  Goesting  gives  me  in  six  weeks  will 
not  be  enough  to  pay  for  that  too." 

When  he  looked  back  at  thie  bed,  h5s 
mother's  eyes  were  wide  open  and  she  was 
gazing  at  him. 

"Have  you  waked  up,  mother?" 

"Yes,  my  boy,  I  have  something  to  say 
to  you.  When  I  was  with  you  on  the  field 
this  afternoon,  you  had  no  time  to  attend  to  me. 
You  went  on  ploughing.  You  would  not  stand 
still.  But  that  was  quite  right.  A  good 
labourer  must  put  work  first;  must  he  not, 
my  boy  ?" 

"But  I  knew  you  were  with  me,  mother! 
You  kissed  me!" 

It  is  easily  understood  why  that  made  an 
impression  on  him.  For  ever  since  he  was  a  boy 
his  mother  had  never  kissed  him.  That  was  not 
the  custom  among  the  mothers  of  Eastloorn. 

"Why  is  it  we  never  do  that  any  more, 
when  our  boys  grow  up?"  she  said.  "We  must 
be  curious  women  here.  Our  hearts  make  us 
long  for  it  always,  and  yet  we  do  it  not. 
We  are  a  strong  people  and  do  not  give 
in  to  such  emotions.  Who  taugfct  us  to  control 
ourselves  where  it  is  not  necessary?" 


50          WIEGEN,   THE    DREAMER 

Her  lips  moved  in  a  mechanical,  almost 
coldj,  manner,  a?  of  a  person  whose  lips  will 
never  more  be  moved  by  any  passion.  Her 
hands  also  lay  still  and  quiet  under  the  sheet, 
while  her  feet  were  quite  rigid. 

"Are  you  alive,  mother,  or  are  you  dead? 
Did  the  women  lay  you  out  too  soon?" 

"No,  I  am  dead,  my  boy.  But  I  have  somer 
thing  else  to  say  to  you,  and  it  is  this :  Has 
Wine  never  kissed  you?" 

"Yes,  mother;  this  afternoon,  when  I  was 
walking  here  from  Goesting's.  She  was  walking 
beside  me.  And  it  was  at  the  turning  of  the 
path  on  the  moor,  there  where  the  old  oak 
stands.  You  know  that  oak  which  grew  bent 
because  formerly  it  was  struck  by  lightning 
and  lost  half  of  its  branches." 

"Did  Wine  really  do  that?  That  is  not  like 
the  women  of  these  parts  either!" 

"She  looked  up  at  my  eyes,  and  when  she 
noticed  that  I  was  weeping,  she  was  touched 
with  pity.  Her  arms  were  round  my  neck  and 
her  lips  on  my  mouth.  "Poor  boyl"  she  said. 
1  do  not  know  how  it  came  about,  mother. 
But  all  of  a  sudden  she  had  gone,  rushed 
on  in  front  of  me  to  the  village."  He  related 
the  incident  slowly,  as  if  he  wished  to  feel 
it  all  over  again,  as  he  had  felt  it  then. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     51 

''That  was  good  of  Wine,"  the  mother 
remarked.  "Who  has  ever  been  sorry  for  you* 
ray  boy?  Not  even  your  mother  I" 

Then  it  was  quiet  in  the  room  for  a  long 
time,  and  once  more  the  wind  and  rain  beat 
against  the  panes. 

At  last  the  woman  continued:  "Should  you 
not  let  Wine  do  the  housekeeping  here  in  my 
place,  Wfegen  ?  Some  one  must  look  after  you  ?" 

He  did  not  answer,  and  she  went  on : 

"When  you  were  a  shepherd  boy  on  the 
moor  all  these  years  your  thoughts  wandered, 
and  you  became  a  dreamer.  It  was  not  looking 
after  the  sheep  only,  that  caused  it,  for  it 
was  in  you.  But  you  kept  it  up  too  long,  and 
then  you  could  not  stop  dreaming.  You  have 
improved  since  you  went'  to  Goesting's,  but  you 
must  go  further.  To  work  is  life,  Wiegen,  and 
not  to  dream  I  And  to  love  is  life  even  more !" 

"How  am  I  to  know  if  I  am  dreaming 
now,  or  if  I  am  not  dreaming,  mother?  Is 
all  this  really  happening,  or  is  it  not,  mother?" 

She  did  not  answer  at  once,  but  went  on 
after  a  little: 

"Have  you  ever  looked  into  her  eyes,  my 
boy?  What  sort  of  eyes  are  they?  What  sort 
of  lips  are  they  ?  And  lower  down ;  have  you 
ever  looked  at  those  arms  ?  And  is  she  not 


52          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

tall  and  strong?  Is  there  a  girl  in  the  parish 
so  pretty  as  Wine,  Wiegen?" 

There  was  the  sound  of  thunder  outside, 
a  long  and  heavy  roll  of  thunder,  as  one 
often  hears  in  autumn,  —  loud  because  it  is 
rare.  The  windows  shook  and  the  old  house 
trembled.  The  wind,  carrying  with  it  torrents 
of  rain,  seized  the  planks  of  the  outhouse 
beneath;  they  groaned  to  remain  attached  to 
each  other.  And  outside  on  the  street,  the 
people  shouted  .out  from  the  one  house  to 
the  other,  people  who  had  waked  up  and  come 
out  to  have  a  look. 

Wiegen  jumped  up  with  a  start,  ran  to  the 
window,  and  looked  out,  But  there  was  no 
second  roll  of  thunder,  as  is  often  the  case 
in  autumn.  He  sat  down  again  on  the  chair 
beside  the  bed.  The  light  of  the  lamp  fell  on 
the  dead  face.  The  eyes  were  shut  now  and 
the  lips  closed,  the  arms  stiff  beneath  the 
sheet,  and  the  feet  rigid. 

So  Wiegen  was  sitting  when  the  morning 
dawned,  and  he  heard  the  first  cart  on  the 
street,  going  to  the  field.  That  he  knew  was 
Wendel's  cart;  his  man  never  walked  beside 
the  horses,  but  always  sat  crooked  on  the  box 
whether  the  cart  were  full  or  empty.  He  was 
rather  lazy,  the  other  men  in  Eastloorn  said. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     53 

The  day  came  for  Wiegen. 

He  knew  not  whether  he  had  slept  that  night 
there  on  his  chair.  One  thing  was  certain,, 
he  was  awake  now. 

Neither  did  he  know  what  he  was  to  think 
or  that  conversation  between  him  and  his 
mother.  Did  that  also  belong  to  the  realm  of 
visions  and  dreams?  Was  it  real,  or  was  it 
not  real?  And  might  it  not  be  the  mixed 
feelings  which  the  sad  death  of  his  mother 
and  the  first  kiss  which  he  had  received  from 
a  strange  woman  had  roused  in  him?  He 
did  not  know,  and  worried  about  it. 

But  the  fact  that  he  did,'  not  know  showed 
that  Wiegen  had  made  progress.  Some  years 
ago  he  would  certainly  have  looked  upon  it 
as  a  vision, 

On  the  day  after  the  funeral  Wine  came 
very  early  in  the  morning. 

The  door  was  open;  Wiegen,  of  course, 
was  up  already.  He  had  to  go  to  Goesting's; 
he  had  to  be  there,  as  he  had  always,  been, 
before  the  old  farmer  and  his  wife  were  up. 
A  good  labourer  in  Eastloorn  had,'  done  a  good 
deal  before  the  master  and  his  wife  came  out. 

"I  have  come  to  make  your  coffee,  as  I 
have  always  done  for  your  mother,"  she  said; 


54          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

and,  with  the  coffee-mill  between  faer  knees, 
she  started  grinding,  while  Wiegen  watched  her 
for  a  moment. 

He  considered  it  quite  natural  that  she  did  it. 

She  did  not  look  up;  for  she  thought  of 
him  as  of  one  who  had  lost  his  mother.  "I 
may  not  come  between  him  and  his  mother," 
went  though  her  mind  constantly. 

The  fire  was  on  the  wide  hearth  and  the 
kettle  hung  over  it;  Wiegen  had  seen  to  that. 
"I  should  not  have  imagined  that  the  Dreamer 
would  have  thought  of  such  things;  I  thought 
he  would  have  run  away  to  the  farmer's  without 
any  coffee." 

"What  a  queer  way  that  boy  is  behaving!" 
she  thought  again,  without  looking  up.  "One 
moment  he  is  standing  by  the  window,  then 
by  the  fire,  then  at  the  door.  Dreaming  again  ?'* 

But  he  was  not  dreaming.  His  eyes  were 
always  fixed  on  her,  whether  he  was  standing 
by  the  door,  or  by  the  window,  or  at  the  fire. 
He  looked  at  her  mouth,  of  which  his  mother 
had  spoken;  and  lower  down  at  her  arms 
and  at  the  strength  and  beauty  in  her.  He 
also  wished  that  he  icould  see  those  eyes  of 
which  his  mother  had  spoken;  for  he  could 
not  remember  ever  having  looked  into  her 
eyes.  He  must  make  her  look  up. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     55 

"Wine,"    he    said,    and   nothing    else. 

He  saw  into  those  eyes,  those  large  eyes, 
and  in  them  he  read  a  question,  a  great 
question.  She  did  not  look  like  a  happy  girl. 

"How  long  have  you  been  grieving,  Wine?" 

"Have  I  been  grieving,  Wiegen?  How  do 
you  Know  that  ?" 

"I  must  tell  you  about  mother,  I  spoke 
with  her  when  she  was  lying  here  dead  that 
night;  she  talked  with  me  all  night." 

"Have  you  been  having  dreams  and  visions 
again,  boy?"  And  an  even  more  miserable 
look  came  into  her  eyes  than  before. 

"No,  listen  to  me,"  and  he  told  her  what 
his  mother  had  said  to  Kim  when  she  awoke 
on  her  bed  of  death. 

The  girl  blushed  a  deep  red  when  he 
finished  speaking.  She  took  the  coffee-mill  from 
between  -her  knees,  got  up  and  went  to  the 
fire,  which  suddenly  seemed  to  require  her 
attention.  "Silly  dreams,  Wiegen,  you  know; 
that  as  well  as  I  do  I  Your  mother  did  not 
wake  up  at  all;  the  dead  do  not  come  to 
life  again.  Those  are  your  own  thoughts 
which  come  out  of  your  own  head,  and  which 
you  imagine  came  from  your  mother!"  But 
she  was  glad  that  his  own  thoughts  suddenly 
took  that  shape. 


56          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

But  Wiegen  had  seen  the  blush.  His  eyes 
had  been  opened,  he  who  had  been  blind 
now  saw  for  the  first  time  what  beauty  there 
was  in  the  rosy  colour  on  a  girl's  cheeks. 

And  his  eyes  had  been  opened  to  more 
than  that.  Standing  behind  her,  he  saw  the 
whiteness  of  a  neck,  the  blackness  of  thick, 
tied-up  hair;  standing  behind  her,  he  saw  the 
curve  of  her  shoulders,  the  rounded  shape  of 
her  hips.  The  seer  "had  in  truth  become  seeing*  ( 

A  leap,  a  wild  leap,  and  his  arms  were'  about 
her;  and  his  face  bent  dver  the  frightened 
head  of  the  girl. 

An  unchained  passion  had  swept  over  him, 
as  a  wild  stream  which  breaks  throught  the 
dikes  for  he  first  time.  And  in  the  girl's: 
heart  was  a  great  fear  wKich  made  her  think : 
"I  have  done  trust  Oh,  I  have  unchained 
this  passion  (" 

"Let  me  go,  Wiegenf  Remember  your 
mother,  who  was  buried  only  yesterday.  It 
is  a  sinf* 

"ft  is  no  sinf*  Wieg<en  shouted,  "mother 
told  me  herself!" 

And  in  those  strong'  arms,  out  of  which 
she  could  not  free  herself,  Wine  surrendered 
to  the  might  which  was  stronger  than  both 
of  them  together.  There  was  no  more  resisting. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     57 

The  day  had  dawned  for  Wiegen.  The 
sleeping  being  in  him  had  awakened. 

"Let  me  go  now,  Wiegen,"  she  said  gently, 
at  last;  a  good  labourer  must  not  be  too 
late  at  his  work.  I  shall  be  here  again  this 
evening.  You  shall  be  happy,  my  boy,  as  you 
have  never  been  before;  and  I  shall  not 
grieve  any  more  1M 

The  man  went  away,  without  coffee  and 
without  bread1. 

But  that  did  not  matter;  Goesting's  wife 
would  give  it  him.  She  had  often  done  so:  be- 
fore ;  not  only  to  h!m,  but  also  to  the  other  men, 
for  she  was  a  good  mistress  to  her  servants. 

There  was  much  laughter  among  some  of 
the  girls  in  the  village  when  every  evening 
those  two  people  were  seen  together,  and  when 
it  became  known  that  there  was  something 
between  Wiegen  a.nd  Wine. 

"Have  you  heard  it?'*  they  enquired  of 
each  other  at  the  pump  on  the  Square. 

"That  Dreamer  is  well  off,"  they  said,  for 
Wine  was  in  high  favour  with  all  the  village 
girls,  for  she  had  never  interfered  with  their 
affairs ;  she  had  never  thought  of  the  other 
boys.  Which  of  them  could  have  a  grudge 
against  her  then? 


58          WIEGENT,   THE    DREAMER 

"But  how  can  she  want  such  a  boy?" 
"He  is  not  made  of  flesh  and,  blood;  hei  is  a 
spirit,  such  as  the  spirits  he  sees  and  talks  with!" 
"His  arm  will  be  cold;,  and  cold  his  eyes  I" 
"It  would  make  me  creepy  to  live  with  him; 
there  will  be  ghosts  in  the  night." 

"Come,  come,  it  is  not  so  bad  as  all  that! 
But  she  might  have  looked  about  her  more 
and  done  better  than  that  I" 

On  such  an  evening  there  came  no  end 
to  the  filling  of  the  pails,  the  bottomless  pails  f 
But  if  the  girls  had  known  of  the  passion  which 
had  become  unchained,  they  would  have  said 
to  themselves  with  girlish  jealousy :  "What  a 
lucky  girl!" 

The  old  minister  was  one  of  those  who  did 
not  laugh. 

In  spite  of  himself,  he  had  become  a  psy- 
chologist during  the  course  of  years.  Whenever 
he  had  noticed  the  symptoms  he  always  ferreted 
out  the  causes. 

"What  has  changed  the  Dreamer  so?"'  He 
asked  of  himself. 

And,  as  he  pondered,  he  looked  up  at  the 
appletree  under  which  he  stood,  at  the  last 
apples  which  were  stiH  hanging  there,  and 
which  the  gardener  had  forgotten  to  pick. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     59 

"Covert  always  leaves  too  many;  he  is  getting 
too  old,  he  cannot  see  when  he  gathers  them. 

"I  wonder  what  has  changed  the  Dreamer 
so?...  Ah,  I  know  it  I  I  did  it  on  that  day 
when  I  told  him  he  must  stop  looking  after 
the  sheep  I  That  was  when  it  began!  Work, 
work  has  changed  him!" 

And  the  old  minister  laughed;  he  also 
laughed,  but  it  was  different  to  the  laughing 
of  the  girls  on  the  Square. 

"But  what  is  that?  Has  old  Covert  tied  up 
the  roses  in  straw  for  the  winter,  after  I  had 
told  him  that  it  was  top  soon,  and  that  the 
roses  would  be  in  flower  in  no  timef  A  self- 
opinionated  ass,  he  £sil  I  shall  have  to  look 
out  for  a  new  gardener  before  I  die.f"  And  he 
went  to  look  in  the  outhouse,  to  see  whether 
he  could  find  the  ass. 

"Yet  it  might  be  that  I  was  not  the  cause  of 
Wiegen's  change.  For  work  is  not  the  father 
of  love.  A  fine  thing  that'  Laziness  is  the 
field  on  wich  love  grows' I  In  the  summer  the 
boys  do  not  think  of  it ;  they  have  too  much  to 
d,o  on  the  fields !  No,  the  winter  is  their  time, 
when  there  is  nothing1  to  do!" 

And  again  the  old  man  laughed,  and  forgot 
to  look  for  his  gardener. 

'One    thing    I    know,    and    it    is    this;  the 


60          WIEGEN,   THE   DREAMER 

Dreamer  will  forget  all  about  his  kingdom  of 
heaven  in  the  way  he  thought  of  the  kingdom! 
When  loye  is  reajly  there,  aJl  people  are  cured 
of  their  socialistic  dream-states.  Another  one 
has  been  cured  here!" 

And  again  the  old  minister  laughed,  more 
merrily  than  many  old  men  in  his  parish  and 
in  other  parishes. 

That  old  man  went  laughing  to  his  grave. 

But  had  he  asked  Wine  what  had  cured  the 
Dreamer,  she  would  not  have  given  him  the 
answer.  For  she  knew  it! 

With  a  shame  which  long  afterwards  when 
she  thought  of  it,  brought  a  blush  to  her  cheeks, 
she  always  remembered :  "It  was  the  kiss  which 
I  gave  him  at  the  turning  of  the  path,  under 
the  old  gnarled  oak  tree,  the  kiss  which  I 
gave  him  there,  that  woke  up  the  sleeper  I" 

But  when  Wiegen  was  a  married  man  among 
the  men  of  Eastloorn,  and  when  several 
children  sat  with  him  round,  his  table,  the 
Dreamer  in  him  had  not  altogether  disap- 
peared. He  had  understood  that  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  is  righteousness,  —  righteousness 
and  nothing  else.  All  earthliness  had  gone  Out 
of  his  dream.  The  old  minister,  the  psycholo- 
gist, had  been  right;  the  home  is  the  greatest 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     61 

enemy  of  every  socialistic  state  or  dream-state, 
and  Wiegen  had,  a  family  now  f  All  that  remai- 
ned to  him  of  his  dreams  was  what  the  minister 
had  told  him,  and  what  his  Bible  taught  him 
daily ;  that  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  righteous- 
ness, —  righteousness  and  nothing  else. 

But  it  was  just  that  thought  whiqh,  in 
future,  made  him  attach  little  importance  to 
an  outward  church. 

"I  have  a  church  of  my  own,"  he  used  to 
say.  when  the  conversation  turned  upon  it  in  the 
evening  on  the  Square;  for  he  also  liked  to  be 
there  among  the  other  men.  "I  have  a  church 
of  my  own,  and  those  who  work  righteous- 
ness, those  are  the  members  of  my  church  I" 

Such  doings  and  such  sayings  made  the 
minister  put  on  a  doubtful  face  when  he  heard 
it,  and  made  Wiegen  keep  the  nickname  which 
he  had  in  his  village, 

No  one  agreed  with  him  in  those  ideas; 
for  who  was  there  in  the  parish  who  unwittingly 
did  not  honour  the  visible  form  of  the  kingdom, 
namely,  the  Church,  above  the  kingdom 
itself?  No,  those  were  only  Wiegen's  dreams  f 

And  that  was  why  he  was  called  the  Dreamer 
all  his  days 


II 

THE   SECESSION 

To  enable  the  reader  to  understand  the 
subject  dealt  with  in  the  following  chapter, 
a  short  explanation  seems  essential. 

The  great  or  National  Church  in  the  Nether- 
lands is  the  Dutch  Reformed  Church,  which, 
in  former  days,  was  practically  co-extensive 
with  the  country.  In  the  course  of  time  there 
were  several  secessions.  Many  people  who 
were  not  satisfied  with  the  Dutch  Reformed 
Church  left  it,  and  formed  new  churches, 
which  gradually  grew  in  strength.  The  last 
of  these  dissensions,  the  one  referred  to  in 
the  following  chapter,  took  place  in  1886  and 
1887,  and  those  who  brought  it  about  called 
themselves  the  Doleful  Dissenters. 

The  Dissension  had  come  also  to  Eastloorn; 
it  haxi  come  with  storms  and  thunderclouds. 

This  had  surprised  many  people.  It  was 
not  like  these  quiet  people  living  in  Overijsel, 
near  the  Vecht,  to  join  in  the  strife.  In  accor- 
dance with  their  peaces-loving  natures,  the 
Dissension  should  have  come  about  without 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     63 

any  excitement  at  all.  This  was  not  the  case, 
however. 

And  for  many  years  after  both  the  members 
of  the  Reformed  Church  and  those  of  the 
Dissenting  Church  had  felt  deeply  ashamed. 

They  could  never  quite  forget  that  they 
had  allowed  themselves  to  be  carried  along 
on  the  stream  of  passion,  they  who,  as  a 
rule,  knew  so  well  how  to  keep  their  emotions 
in  check.  Long  after  the  storm  had  abated 
and  the  Dissenting  Church  had  been  establis- 
hed, the  members  of  either  church  were  afraid 
to  look  each  other  in  the  face.  And  this  was 
not  caused  by  any  feelings  of  enmity,  but  by 
a  deep  sense  of  shame ;  the  enmity  was  blowing 
over  rapidly,  but  the  sense  of  shame  remained. 

It  was  not  that  they  felt  ashamed  of  thef  act 
itself,  or  of  the  principle  which  had  prompted 
it  —  the  principle  to  which  both  parties  clung 
with  great  persistence,  —  but  they  felt  ashamed 
because  they  had  not  controlled  their  passions, 
and  because  the  gentle  nature,  which  had 
always  characterized  the  inhabitants  of  East- 
loom  for  many  generations,  had  been  lost  for 
a  while,  so  that  their  parish  in  those  days  was 
exactly  like  so  many  other  parishes  in  Holland, 
where  the  standard  of  civilisation  was  much 
lower. 


64  THE    SECESSION 

The  Secession  had  comp  about  in  this  way. 

It  was  Senserff  who;  had  taken  the  first 
steps  towards  it.  He  had  been  in  Eastloorn  for 
four  years  then.  He  was  the  successor  of  the 
eld  minister,  who  had  died.  The  Synodical 
yqke  had  begun  to  oppress  him,  and  by  degrees 
he  had  made  this  clear  to  his  elders  and  church- 
wardens. And  on  the  Sunday  before  New 
Year's  Eve  he  had  announced  from  the 
pulpit  that  he  and  his  elders,  in  name  of 
the  whole  congregation,  had  thrown  off  the 
Synodical  yoke,  and  that  from  that  moment  they 
were  going  to  place  themselves  again  under  the 
ecclesiastical  organisation  of  the  year  1619. 

There  had  been  much  talk  abo,ut  this  step 
among  the  men  and  women  in  the  village. 

"Do  you  think  the  minister  does  not  know, 
what  he  must  do  ?"  many  of  them  asked  others, 
who  wondered  quietly  whether  the  minister 
and  his  elders  had  been  quite  justified  in 
taking  this  step. 

"He  has  been  here  long  enough  to  pass  for 
one  of  us  now;  we  all  know  him,  and  if  one 
did  not  know  it,  one  would  think  He  had  been 
born  and  bred  here;  he  has  never  yet  been 
unjust,  so  this  must  be  right  too!" 

"But,"  the  others  timfdly  objected,  "if  he 
wants  to  do  a  thing  like  that,  let  him  do  it  for 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     65 

himself  alone,  and  let  the  elders  do  it  for 
themselves.  But  they  are  taking  this  step  for 
the  whole  parish;  surely  they  might  have 
asked  our  opinion  first!" 

"You  do  not  understand  the  matter,"  was 
the  answer;  "the  minister  and  his  elders  act 
in  our  place  and  for  us." 

It  was  just  this  that  these  simple-minded 
men  could  not  grasp. 

But    there    was    yet   another    consideration, 

"We  do  not  want  to  belong  to  a  new 
Church,"  the  people  said.  "This  is  a  novelty 
which  has  come  from  Holland;*)  we  have 
read  of  it  in  the  papers.  Let  them  go  in  for 
novelties  in  Holland  if  they  like;  they  are 
not  for  us;  let  us  Iceep  to  the  old  customs 
and  decrees  which  were  always  good  enough 
for  our  forefathers.  Do  you  think  I  want  to 
belong  to  a  different  Church  to  the  one  my 
father  and,1  my  mother  belonged  to?  My 
forefathers,  as  far  as  I  know,  have  always 
belonged  to  this  Church;  why  then  should 
I  join  a  new  one?" 

"You  do  not  understand,"  those  in  favour 
of  the  Secession  said;  "you  will  now  return 
to  the  old  Church  to  which  your  ancestors 


*)    Here  the  province  North-Holland  is  meant. 


66  THE    SECESSION 

and  parents  belonged.  We  are  going  to  join 
the  old  Church,  the  Reformed  Church,  which 
we  have  left." 

But  they  could  not  be  made  to  see  it. 

How  could  one  establish  a  new  Church  and 
yet  belong  to  the  old  Church? 

They  remembered  the  time  of  their  con- 
firmation, when  they  had  promised  in  that 
very  building  to  be  faithful  to  the  Church, 
and  they  could  not  break  this  promise. 

They  remembered  the  times  wh,en  they  had 
partaken  of  Holy  Communion  in  that  Church, 
and  how  then  could  they  leave  it? 

They  remembered  how  their  children  had 
been  christened  there. 

They  remembered  the  graves  which  were 
there,  along  the  outer  wall  of  the  church, 
where  their  grandparents  and  those  who  had 
lived  before  them  lay  buried.  True,  now  there 
was  a  new  cemetery,  and  they  were  not  allowed 
to  bury  their  dead  in  the  old  place;  but  that 
ground  near  the  outer  wall  of  the  church 
was  sacred  ground. 

They  remembered  it  alii  And  it  made  them 
feel  as  if  they  were  'emigrants  who  were  about 
to  sell  all  they  possessed,  and  who  were  going 
to  leave  house  and  home  to  cross  the  sea  and 
live  in  a  strange  country. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     67 

They  could  not  understand  how  the  new 
Church  could  be  the  old  one. 

"We  will  explain  it  to  you,"  those  in  favour 
of  the  Secession  said  again.  "Our  Church  has 
departed  from  the  old  paths,  and  this  has 
been  going  on  for  some  time.  It  is  no  longer 
what  the  old  Church  was,  and  if  now  we 
establish  a  new  Church,  that  new  Church  will 
be  the  old  Church !" 

They  grasped  it  to  a  certain  extent,  but 
not  as  the  others  did. 

And  in  this  manner  they  had  thought  and 
talked  not  only  during  that  week,  but  during 
the  whole  spring  and  the  whole  summer  and 
the  whole  winter. 

Other  things  had  occurred  which  had  helped 
matters  on,  but,  although  his  cause  was  fur- 
thered by  them,  these  things  had  not  pleased 
Senserff. 

It  was  towards  midsummer  that  the  German 
mowers  came  to  the  village.  They  were  accus- 
tomed to  come  every  year  at  that  particular 
time.  They  came  from  Germany  and  made 
their  way  to  Friesland,  going  in  a  north- 
westerly direction  across  the  province  of 
Overijsel.  They  went  to  Friesland  to  mow  the 
grass  on  the  wide  meadows,  for  the  Frisian 


68  THE    SECESSION 

farmers  never  had  enough  men  to  do  the 
work,  so  they  always  got  the  German  mowers 
to  help.  And  these  men  worked  there  for 
weeks  and  weeks  at  a  time. 

It  was  towards  evening  when  they  passed 
through  Eastloorn.  The  tall  men  were  walking 
two  and  two,  with  their  scythes  swung  loosely 
across  their  shoulders,  each  one  with  his 
knapsack. 

When  they  came  to  the  Square  they  stood 
still  to  decide  whether  they  should  go  on,  or 
spend  the  night  in  the  village.  The  young  men 
among  them  seemed  to  wish  to  go  on,  but1  the 
older  ones,  who  had  done  the  same  thing  often 
before,  advised  them  to  stop  for  the  night  and 
rest,  so  that  next  day  they  would  be  able  to 
continue  their  journey  right  into  the  middle  of 
Friesland,  as  they  had  done  the  years  before. 
And  the  younger  men  did  as  their  elders 
advised. 

They  took  their  scythes  from  their  shoulders 
and  put  them  on  the  ground  near  the  church 
wall;  then  they  sat  down  by  the  wall  and 
took  bread  and  bacon  out  of  their  sacks 
to  eat.  Those  who  were  thirsty  drank  water 
from  the  pump  which  stood  in  the  middle 
of  the  Square.  They  were  peaceful  men,  who 
never  did  any  one  any  harm.  The  people  in 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     69 

Eastloorn  knew  many  of  the  older  men  among 
them;  they  came  regulary  every  year,  and 
Schepers  and  Raders  came  out  of  their  houses 
and  talked  with  them  as  with  ol'd  friends. 

And  after  they  had  finished  their  meal  they 
lay  down  on  the  ground  by  ther  scythes  and 
rested  their  heads  on  their  sacks.  It  was  their 
usual  resting-place,  and  they  slept  soundly 
after  their  long  day's  tramp. 

Next  day,  before  any  one  in  the  village  was 
up,  they  were  gone  on  their  way  to  the  North. 

It  was  only  a  flying1  visit,  but,  if  that  visit 
had  not  taken  place,  there  would  have  been 
an  annual  event  fewer  to  record  in  Eastloorn. 

No  one  could  tell  afterwards  who  had  spread 
the  tale,  but  the  next  day  it  ran  through  the 
village  like  wildfire  that  the  German  mowers 
had  seen  blood  on  the  threshold  of  the  church. 
Early  in  the  morning,  before  sunrise,  they 
had  seen  a  little  stream  of  blood  coming  from 
the  inside  of  the  church,  and  trickling  down 
the  steps  on  to  the  Square;  red  blood  1 

No  one  ever  knew  who  was  the  first  to  spread 
the  report;  but  all  day  long  a  crowd  of  men 
and  women  stood  on  the  steps  trying  to  make 
out  were  that  stream  of  blood  had  flowed. 

Most  people  considered  it  a  bad  omen,  even 
though  the  blood  was  no  longer  to  be  seen. 


70  THE    SECESSION 

Surely  (something  was  going  to  happen!  And 
it  must  be  in  connection  with  the  church;  why 
should  it  have  been  seen  there  and  nowhere  else  ? 

Senserff  also  stood  still  a  moment  as  he 
came  past,  and  he  laughed  heartily  when  he 
was  told'  what  had  taken  place.  He  could 
never  have  believed  that  his  parishioners  would 
be  so  superstitious.  He  laughed  and  joked 
about  it  to  all  those  who  were  standing  near^ 
so  that  they  soon  found  out  that  he  did  not 
attach  any  importance  to  the  rumour. 

"Look  here,"  he  said,  much  amused,  "this 
is  .where  the  blood  flowed.  I  can  see  it  quite 
distinctly  I  Do  you  not  see  the  stain  ?"  And  he 
laughed  and  joked  so  much  about  the  matter 
that  at  lajst  the  people  went  away,  for  they 
did  not  like  to  contradict  him. 

But  that  evening  and  during  the  following 
days  Senserff  did  not  laugh  any  more,  for 
hundreds  of  people  believed  that  it  was  a 
token  from  Heaven  sent  as  a  warning  to  leave 
the  Church. 

"It"  is  quite  clear,"  the  people  said;  "we 
must  do  as  the  minister  says  and  leave  the 
Reformed  Church!" 

Senserff  and  his  elder,  Schepers,  might 
contradict  it  as  much  as  they  liked;  it 
was  of  no  avail.  And  it  made  the  minister 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE    71 

feel  very  bitter  to  think  that  the  cause  for 
which  he  was  working  so  hard  was  being 
furthered  in  this  manner. 

"If  my  men  do  not  feel  that  there  are 
higher  motives  than  these  in  favour  of  the 
Secession,"  he  said,  "then  I  shall  have  to  give 
up  the  idea  altogether." 

Matters  were  not  improved,  according  to 
his  thinking,  when  a  little  incident  which  had 
taken  place  in  spring  was  remembered. 

A  hawk  had  come  flying  across  the  moor 
from  a  great  distance,  and  this  hawk  had  made 
it?  home  in  the  church  tower. 

The  pigeons,  which  had  had  their  nests  there 
as  long  as  people  could  remember,  had  flown 
away  rapidly  cfiSwn  to  the  houses,  where  they 
sat  on  the  roofs,  since  there  they  were  safe  and 
no  hawk  would  venture  near. 

Yet  the  schoolboys  had  seen  how  the  hawk 
had  got  hold  of  onei,  and  they  had  enjoyjed 
the  sight.  The  hawk  had  carried  the  pigeon 
to  the  tower,  ana  a  short  time  after  feathers 
were  seen  blowing  about  in  all  directions.  They 
had  picked  up  the  feathers,  some  of  which 
were  stained  with  blood,  and  pointed  them 
out  to  each  other  in  great  excitement. 

Some  of  the  pigeons  tried  to  get  back  to 


72  THE    SECESSION 

the  tower,  for  they  had  left  their  eggs  and 
young  birds  behind.  Their  mother's  instinct 
constantly  drove  them  back  toward  the  nests, 
but  they  never  got  very  near,  for  they  always 
caught  sight  of  the  hawk  just  as  they  were 
nearing  their  goal  I  And  many  a  dove  had  to 
pay  dearly  for  its  maternal"  love ! 

And  Senserff  heard  the  people  talk  about  this 
as  if  i;t  also  were  a  sign  from  heaven.  The 
Church  was  no  longer  a  refuge  and  a  shelter 
for  believers.  What  else  could  the  coming 
of  the  hawk  mean? 

"We  must  do  as  the  minister  tells  us,"  they 
would  say,  as  they  stood  together  on  the  Square 
in  the  evening;  "the  house  of  the  Lord  has 
Become  a  murderer's  den,  and  it  cannot  be 
the  right  place  for  us  any  longer.  We  are, 
told  to  lieave  the  old  Church,  it  is  quite  clear  !'* 

At  any  time  of  the  day  one  could  see  a 
crowd  of  people  gazing  up  at  the  tower;  and 
whenever  the  hawk  flew  out  :great  excitement 
prevailed  among  old  and  young. 

Senserff  talked  with  them,  but  it  was  of 
no  avail.  He  tried  joking  about  it;  he  tried 
being  angry;  nothing  helped.  He  was  abso- 
lutely powerless;  no  one  contradicted,  but 
their  superstition  was  quite  evident. 

f'Schepers,"   Senserff  said  one   day,   as  he 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     73 

entered  his  house,  "I  know  you  have  an 
excellent  rifle,  for  I  have  seen  it.  Will  you  lend 
it  to  me  ?  I  want  to  shoot  that  hawk  I" 

"Can  you  schoot,  sir?"  Schepers  said, 
dubiously. 

"Where  is  your  rifle,  Schepers?  Leave  the 
shooting  to  me!  I  assure  you  that  hawk  will 
not  live  much  longer.  There  must  be  an  end 
to  this  silly  superstition  I" 

And  after  that  the  minister  was  often  seen 
walking  in  his  garden,  carrying  the  rifle.  And  he 
was  always  gazing  up  at  the  sky.  He  was  seen 
in  his  garden  very  early  in  the  morning,  before 
many  of  the  labourers  were  up  and  at  work. 

And  one  fine  morning  the  hawk  was  actually 
shot.  The  report  soon  spread  through  the 


The  schoolboys  crowded  round  the  gate  with 
ea^er  faces,  hoping  to  see  the  hawk  and 
posibly  to  get  it.  Senserff  tried  hard  to 
coireal  his  anger  as  he  threw  them  the  bird; 
the;  might  nail  it  up  on  the  schoolroom  wall, 
nea-  the  side  entrance,  so  that  every  one  might 
see  what  had  become  of  the  token  from  heaven. 

Aid  in  the  afternoon,  when  he  stood  chatting 
to  ome  men  near  the  pump  in  the  Square, 
his  vofds  were  a  little  bitter.  "The  tower  is 
safe  again,  men;  do  you  see  it?  The  evil  one 


74  THE    SECESSION 

has  been  driven  away,  and  every  one  can 
see  by  this  that  we  must  not  join  the  Secession.'* 

"The  minister  is  quite  right,"  the  men  said, 
later  on;  "the  hawk  was  a  token  for  us  to 
leave  the  old  Church ;  and  now  the  hawk  is 
dead  it  is  a  sign  that  we  can  stay  I" 

But  they  secretly  thought  the  first  token 
was  stronger  than  the  second,  and  it  was  almost 
a  foregone  conclusion  that  the  Secession  would 
have  to  take  place. 

Senserff  had  very  little  satisfaction  for  his 
trouble.  He  often  wondered  whether  Eastloorn 
was  the  right  place  to  start  this  great  work 
and  whether  his  people  were  ripe  for  it.  And 
he  wondered  still  more  when  he  heard  his  irore 
enlightened  parishioners  laugh  and  scoff  jat 
the  superstitions  of  the  others. 

Had  it  not  been  for  his  elders,  who  vere 
the  best  men  in  the  parish  and  who  had 
a  deeper  insight  into  the  reasons  for  a 
Secession,  and  who  stuck  to  him  through  :hick 
and  thin  with  much  common  sense  and  pure 
motives,  he  would  have  given  it  all  up  and 
there  might  never  have  been  a  Secessim  in 
Eastloorn.  The  second  church  would  lever 
have  been  built  f 

And  yet  it  had  come  about,  at  last  f 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     75 

On  the  Sunday  preceding  New  Year's  Eve 
Senserff  had  announced  from  the  pulpit  that 
the  congregation  had,  by  this  deed,  been  set 
free  from  the  Synodical  yoke,  and  that  they 
had  placed  themselves  once  more  under  the 
ecclesiastical  organisation  of  the  year  1619. 

A  sudden  storm  arose  when  the  service 
was  over. 

The  thing  which  had  been  thought  about 
in  silence  and  talked  over  quietly  now  caused 
almost  an  uproar.  Those  in  favour  of  the 
Secession  and  those  against  it  had  discussed 
the  matter  quite  peacefully  before,  but  now 
it  became  a  subject'  for  much  dispute.  All 
their  pent-up  feelings  seemed  to  break  loose 
in  these  conversations,  and  they  talked  to  each 
other  as  if  they  were  enemies. 

Who  would  have  recognised  the  people  of 
Eastloorn  in  those  days? 

People  who  at  other  times  never  accompanied 
their  words  with  gestures  stood  on  the  Square, 
gesticulating  violently,  almost  menacingly. 
People  who  had  been  friends  all  their  lives 
passed  each  other  on  the  street  without 
greeting.  Those  who  were  accustomed  to  drop 
in  at  each  other's  houses  every  evening  to 
discuss  the  daily  news  passed  each  other's 
doors  as  if  strangers  dwelt  there.  The  peace 


76  THE    SECESSION 

was  disturbed  in  many  a  home.  Violent  scenes 
took  place  between  fathers  and  sons,  between 
mothers  and  daughters. 

Where  were  the  gentle  manners  which  were 
a  heritage  in  Eastloorn? 

There  was  only  one  man  who  remained  calm 
during  the  storm.  It  was  Wiegen,  the  Dreamer. 

"It  does  not  seem  to  affect  you  I"  the  people 
said  to  him,  and  they  said  it  almost  sullenly-. 

He  looked  quietly  into  their  eyes. 

"Do  you  not  care  then  which  of  the  two 
parties  wins?"  they  would  say;  for  they  were 
curious  to  know  what  his  thought  were. 

"Oh,"  he  would  answer,  "what  does  it  matter 
who  wins?  The  Church  is  not  the  Kingdom 
of  Heaven.  And  the  new  Church  which  is 
coming  will  not  be,  either.  Righteousness  is 
the  Kingdom  of  Heaven;  and  he  who  is 
righteous  does  not  require  either  the  old  or 
the  new  Church!" 

These  discussions  always  took  place  on  the 
Square. 

"Your  minister  shall  not  mount  the  pulpit 
again!"  the  doctor,  who  was  a  churchwarden, 
remarked. 

He  was  an  old  man  of  seventy,  and  the 
oldest  friend  of  all  men  and  women  under 
fifty.  He  had  stood  beside  their  cradles,  and 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     77 

the  mothers  in  the  village  could  not  have 
wished  for  a  better  doctor. 

"Your  minister  has  freed  himself  from  our 
Church,  and  he  shall  not  mount  our  pulpit 
again!  And  I  shall  do  my  duty  as  church- 
warden!" 

"And  if  there  is  no  other  minister  on  New 
Year's  Eve,  who  will  preach  the  sermon  then  ?" 
one  of  the  bystanders  said  in  rather  a  rude 
voice. 

"I  do  not  know!"  the  doctor  answered;  "but 
it  shall  not  be  he!  If  no  one  else  is  sent  the 
church  shall  remain  closed !  And  that  will  be  the 
first  fruit  of  his  obstinacy.  When  has  that  ever 
taKen  place  before  in  Eastloorn,  no  service  on 
New  Year's  Eve?" 

"And  yet  the  minister  shall  mount  the 
pulpit!"  the  others  shouted;  "we  will  see  about 
that.'  You  wfto  remain  under  the  Synodical 
organisation  have  nothing  to  say  now.  We 
shall  appoint  new  churchwardens !  What  do 
you  say  to  that,  doctor?" 

"I  say  this,  that  your  minister  will  have 
to  leave  his  house  too!  Those  who  leave  our 
Church  cannot  live  in  the  vicarage  belonging  to 
that  Church  either!  You  had  better  build  a 
new  church  and  a  new  vicarage!  But  he  shall 
not  stay  in  ours !" 


78  THE    SECESSION 

Several  tall  boys  were  standing  among  the 
men  who  were  quarrelling  with  the  doctor, 
and  they  thrust  out  their  hands  and  shouted: 
"Drive  him  away  from  the  Square,  men!  He 
had  better  not  talk  ill  of  our  minister!" 

But  the  doctor  stood  fearlessly  among  the 
throng  of  excited  people,  fearlessly  as  a  man 
who  had  grown  old  among  them.  Laughingly 
he  exclaimed: 

"Which  boy  said  that?  Bring  him  to  me; 
I  should  like  to  see  how  long  ago  it  is  since 
I  took  him  from  his  mother  and  laid  him, 
a  naked  child,  in  his  nurse's  arms." 

The  boys  were  ashamed;  and  even  the  older 
ones  knew  they  had  been  wanting  in  respect 
towards  the  doctor. 

On  New  Year's  Eve,  when  the  people  were 
on  their  way  to  church,  there  was  a  greater 
tension  than  any  of  them  had  ever  experienced 
before. 

Every  one  had  come,  even  those  wrTo  lived 
on  the  most  distant  farms  and  in  the  huts  far 
away  on  the  moor.  The  village  was  astir  with 
men  and  women. 

"Who  is  going  to  preach  this  evening  ?" 
those  who  came  from  a  distance  asked. 

"Our  minister,  of  course,"  was  the  answer. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     79 

But  others  said:  "The  doctor  is  going  to 
have  the  church  closed,  if  no  other  minister 
is  sent!" 

It  was  a  cold  winter  evening,  and  there  was 
a  thick  layer  of  snow  on  the  houses  and  trees. 

There  was  light  in  the  church;  it  lit  up 
the  windows  and  made  a  light  on  the  snow-* 
covered  trees. 

When  the  clock  had  struck  six  and  the 
bell-ringer  had  started  ringing,  there  was  no 
sign  of  a  cab  on  the  road :  there  was  not  even 
the  light  of  a  carriage  lantern  to  be  seen  in 
the  distance.  Evidently  no  other  minister  was 
going  to  turn  up. 

"Then  you  must  not  let  any  one  in,"  thje 
doctor  said  to  Ilting,  the  verger;  "put  out 
the  lights  and  let  the  people  go  home." 

But  the  doctor  had  not  taken  his  opponents 
into  account.  Hundreds  of  people  gathered 
round  the  church  door  and  pushed  against 
it,  wanting  to  come  in.  These  hundreds  were 
Senserff's  friends.  The  Anti-dissenters  stood 
a  little  further  up,  on  the  Square.  And  when 
Ilting,  the  verger,  put  his  head  out  of  a  little 
church-window  and  explained  to  the  people 
that  there  would  be  no  service  and  that  the 
church  was  to  remain  closed,  by  order  of 
the  doctor,  a  terrible  incident  took  place,  an 


8o  THE  SECESSION 

incident  about  which  the  inhabitants  of 
Eastloorn  still  feel  ashamed. 

"We  will  come  in  I"  they  shouted,  "and  the 
minister  shall  preach!" 

"The  verger  is  putting  out  the  lights!"  the 
others  shouted,  for  they  saw  the  light  shining 
more  and  more  faintly  through  the  windows. 

And  then  it  happened  in  a  single  moment. 
The  crowd  pushed  and  pushed  against  the 
church  doors,  old  doors,  which  had  stood  there 
for  many  years.  They  surged  into  the  church, 
shouting  wildly :  "Senserff  shall  preach  !" 

And  Senserff  was  actually  seen,  carried  along 
by  the  stream,  trying  to  clear  his  way  to  the 
pulpit. 

Those  who  were  not  in  favour  of  the 
Secession  could  not  come  in;  the  others  kept 
them  out  with  the  cry :  "The  church  is  ours  I" 
The  doctor's  party  now  understood  that  it 
was  all  caused  by  a  shrewd  plot  on  the  part  of 
the  Dissenters  to  be  at  the  church  'doors  early. 
And,  knowing  that  they  had  been  deceived, 
their  fury  reached  its  culminating  point.  They 
almost  started  to  fight  outside  the  door.  But 
the  doctor  prevented  that. 

"Come  here,  men!"  he  cried,  "to  the  door 
of  the  tower!" 

And,  as  he  always  carried  the  key  of  that 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE    81 

door  with  him,  he  opened  it,  and  so  the  Anti- 
dissenters  made  their  way  in  a  long  line  up 
the  narrow  stairs.  They  reached  the  organ. 
From  there  they  climbed  down  by  the  railing;. 
One  after  the  other  they  came  into  the  church,, 
helping  each  other,  and  in  a  short  space  of 
time  there  were  as  many  Anti-dissenters  as 
Dissenters  in  the  building. 

There  was  a  terrible  confusion. 

But  suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  this  confusion, 
a  voice  started  singing  the  well-known  New 
Year's  Eve  hymn:  —  "Hours,  days,  months, 
years  pass  away  like  a  shadow."  That  was 
the  sign  for  the  doctor's  party.  A  hundred 
strong  voices  joined  In  and  it  sounded  like 
a  war-cry.  But  soon  the  others  were  trying  to 
outdo  them  with  their  own  war-cry :  — 

"Let   God  arise,   and   scattered 

Let  all   his   enemies   be, 
And  let  all  those  that  do  him  hate 

Before  his  presence  flee^" 

Here  and  there,  the  people  were  fighting  in 
the  pews. 

And  no  one  can  tell  what  the  end  of  it 
all  might  have  been  if  at  that  moment  the 
mayor  and  his  two  policeman  had  not  climbed 
down  by  the  organ  and  made  it  plain  to  the 


82  THE    SECESSION 

people  by  gesticulating  that  the  church  must 
be  cleared. 

The  policemen  did  their  work  quickly, 
starting  with  the  men  who  were  nearest  them. 
Those  further  up  had  not  seen  the  mayor 
yet,  and  there  the  fight  in  song  had  changed 
into  a  fight  with  fists. 

Senserff  stood  in  the  pulpit,  pale  and  with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  tears  of  a  man  disillusioned 
about  his  own  followers,  who  had  evidently 
not  understood  in  what  way  the  work  of  the 
Dissension  had  to  be  taken  up  and  spread. 
He  climbed  down  from  the  pulpit,  as  if  he 
wanted  to  be  the  first  to  obey  the  mayor's 
command.  But  his  followers  shouted :  "Stay 
where  you  are,  sir;  we  will  uphold  you!"  That 
hurt  him  more  than  anything. 

After  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  stream  of 
people  had  filed  out  of  the  church,  fighting  here 
and  there  in  the  dark.  One  or  two  of  them 
still  continued  the  skirmish,  and  in  the  church 
there  lay  a  wounded  man  and  another  on 
the  high  steps.  So  there  had  been  bloodshed  too. 

The  next  day,  on  New  Year's  morning,  many 
people  thought  of  what  the  German  mowers 
had  seen  oh  the  morning  after  they  had  slept 
there,  as  they  did  every  year.  It  was  not 
necessary  for  Senserff  to,  joke  about  it,  as 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE    83 

he  had  done  on  that  day,  saying:  "Do  you 
not  see  the  blood,  I  do!"  For  every  one  saw 
the  blood  on  the  threshold  of  the  church  and 
in  the  snow.  And  so  the  Secession  had  come 
about  in  Eastloorn,  with  storms  and  thunderV 
clouds,  such  as  had  not  been  known  before 
in  the  annals  of  the  Church. 

When  on  that  New  Year's  morning  a  crowd 
of  people  stood  together  on  the  Square,  all 
talking  about  the  events  of  the  night  before, 
defending  the  old  Church  or  the  new  one  with 
a  violence  which  had  calmed  down  a  little, 
suddenly,  during  a  lull  in  the  conversation, 
a  voice  was  heard  in  their  midst:  "Alas, 
alas  f  Now  there  is  no  one  who  belongs  tO;  my 
Church  any  more;  I  alone  am  left!" 

They  all  looked  round,  and  when  they  saw 
who  had  spoken,  they  said:  "OH,  it  is  only 
Wiegen,  the  Dreamer  I" 

A  year  later,  there  was  a  new  church,  a 
smaller  (one,  in  Eastloorn.  It  was  the  Dissenters' 
church.  There  was  also  a  new  vicarage.  And 
Senserff  had  to  move  into  it.  And  a  new 
minister  had  preached  his  first  sermojn  in  the 
Reformed  Church.  This  was  Walter,  a  young 
minister,  quite  fresh  from  the  University. 


in 

HARDERS 

The  richest  farm  in  Eastloorn  was  that 
owned  by  Harders. 

One  could  see  it  from  the  village  lying 
beyond  the  marsh  by  the  river.  And  very  often 
the  villagers'  eyes,  especially  those  of  the 
poorer  ones,  wandered  in  that  direction,  and 
if  they  happened  to  be  off  their  guard,  those 
eyes  were  covetous.  For  it  w#s  a  grand  sight. 

When  Walter  was  on  his  way  to  pay  his 
first  visit  there,  —  for  Harders  belonged  to 
the  Reformed  Church  and  had  not  taken  part 
in  the  Secession  —  his  admiration  got  the 
better  of  him,  although  he  had  made  up  his 
mind  beforehand  not  to  admire.  For  Walter 
had  a  rooted  objection  to  rich  farmers. 

"Stupid  fellows,"  he  had  said  on  one 
occasion  to  his  University  friend,  Van  Geuns, 
who  was  staying  with  him;  "stupid  fellows, 
those  rich  farmers  I  They  are  no  better  than 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     85 

the  poorest  villagers  in  point  of  education. 
The  poorest  labourer  in  their  service  is  on  a 
higher  plane.  It  is  simply  the  moiiey  which 
makes  the  difference." 

"That  is  no  reason  for  disliking  those  rich 
farmers,"  Van  Geuns  answered.  "If,  in  point 
of  education,  they  are  on  the  same  level,  you 
should  have  just  as  much  respect  fox  both,  or 
no  respect  at  all  for  either;  but  you  should 
make  no  difference.  Surely  it  cannot  annoy  you 
that  they  have  a  little  more  money  than  the 
others.  I  have  never  yet  had  to  accuse  you  of 
socialistic  jealousy." 

"No,  but  if  those  stupid  fellows  are  conceited 
and  give  themselves  airs  and  play  the  mayor 
without  being  it,  and  have  a  look  in  their  eyes 
as  if  they  were  saying:  'I  shall  be  kind  and 
lenient  with  you  to-day  because,  after  all,  you 
are  the  minister/  then  I  wonder  if  you  would 
not  dislike  those  fellows  topf*' 

For  this  reason  Walter  had  made  up  his  mind 
on  no  account  to  admire  Harders'  great  and  im- 
posing possessions.  He  was  convinced  that  eve- 
rything he  should  see  and  all  that  the  farmer 
could  say  to  him  would  seem  trivial  in  his  eyes. 

But  it  had  all  come  about  in  a  different 
way,  from  he  vejry  beginning. 


86  HARDERS 

When  he  had  crossed  the  village  bridge 
and  turned  into  the  road  which  would  bring 
him  to  Harders'  dwelling,  "Great  Bule,"  he 
enjoyed  walking  on  the  narrow  path  across 
the  meadows.  The  sun  was  not  yet  high  in 
the  heavens;  it  was  still  early  and  he  liked 
the  heat  of  it  on  his  back.  The  plovers  flew 
up  at  «his  feet;  they  shot  up  into  the  air, 
sideways,  then  almost  touched  him  and  away 
again.  "Yes,  my  friends,  I  know  you,"  he 
thought  aloud,  "you  think  I  have  come  to  take 
away  your  eggs.  Do  not  be  alarmed;  I  will 
not  harm  yo|u."  The  houses  of  the  village  seemed 
far  off.  He  could  see  all  about  him ;  everything 
was  wide,  and  far  and  free.  Instinctively,  his 
step  became  elastic.  Oh!  how  delightful  it 
was,  the  wind  coming  from  one  side,!  He 
stretched  out  his  arms  as  if  to  embrace  the 
wind;  and  he  inhaled  it  deep  into  his  lungs. 

"A  happy  man  who  possesses  this  land'" 
he  thought. 

And  he  knew  that  all  this  land  belonged 
to  Harders! 

Farther  on,  he  walked  among  the  cows, 
like  great  patches  of  black  and  white  and  red 
against  the  green  of  the  fields.  "How  many 
may  there  be?"  he  thought.  But  he  did  not 
try  to  count  them.  As  far  as  he  could  see, 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE    87 

those  patches  of  black  and  white  and  red  were 
visible.  When  he  approached  them,  they  rose 
up  suddenly  and  got  out  of  his  way  with  a 
frightened  leap,  turning  their  horns  towards 
him.  But  he  was  not  afraid,  he  liked  to  see 
them  even  better  in  this  way  than  on  canvas. 

"A  lucky  man  who  possesses  all  these  cattle!'* 
he  thought. 

And  he  knew  that  all  these  cows  belonged  to 
Harders. 

And  then  he  came  to  the  fields  of  clover, 
fields  of  potatoes,  long  and  wide.  Among  the 
clover,  (he  saw  the  mowers,  Harders'  men 
standing  with  their  legs  wide  apart,  their 
heads  erect,  swinging  their  arms.  He  heard 
the  sharpening  of  the  scythes,  the  wood  coming 
into  sharp  contact  with  them.  He  saw  the 
clover  falling  at  the  mowers'  feet,  juicy  ajid 
tender,  wafting  a  wonderful  fragrance  towards 
him.  He  picked  an  ear  of  rye  as  he  went, 
an  ear  that  promised  to  become  heavy  in  timei. 
But  a  noisy  flutter  of  partridges,  suddenly 
flying  up,  made  him  look  round;  and  he 
wished  for  a  gun  at  that  moment. 

"How  delightful  to  be  master  here,"  he 
thought,  "to  be  farmer  and  hunter  and  king!" 

And  he  knew  that  Harders  was  farmer  and 
hunter  and  king  here! 


88  HARDERS 

And  when  he  had  passed  the  fields  he  came 
to  the  great  trees  which  surrounded  Harders' 
farm.  And  this  was  "Great  Bulel"  It  was  cool 
under  those  trees,  and  the  shade  was  pleasant, 
and  he  smelt  the  scent  of  divers  foliage.  He 
clasped  his  arms  round  the  trunk  of  one  of 
these  giants  and  tried  to  measure  its 
thickness.  There  were  many  like  this  one.  "It 
must  be  a  hundred  years  old  and  date  from 
the  time  of  Harders'  grandfather  or  great- 
grandfather I" 

"There  is  something,  after  all,"  he  mused, 
"in  possessing  a  patrimonial  estate,  and  in 
being  ablo  to  say:  "Here  my  father  and  grand;- 
father  lived,  and  they  too  got  it  from  their 
fathers.  Think  of  those  poor  wretches  in  a 
town  who  hire  a  house,  and  give  themselves 
airs  with  it!  and  the  foolish  parvenus,  who 
build  a  new  villa  surrounded  with  shrubs  and 
bushes  three  feet  high.  Just  compare  it  with 
this  I" 

His  admiration  had  got  the  better  of  him. 

And  he  knew  that  those  trees  and  that  farm 
belonged  to  Harders  I 

And  he  saw  the  house  surrounded  with 
barns;  high  strong  barns  of  stone  and  of 
wood  and  with  thick  thatched  roofs.  That  one 
was  for  the  hay;  that  for  the  corn;  another 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     89 

for  the  cattle.  He  saw  inside  the  stables 
through  the  open  doors,  the  empty  stables 
pure  and  clean.  There  was  much  running 
about  of  men  and  maids  coming  and  going 
without  an  order;  each  one  knew  his  task 
from  the  morning  to  the  evening.  And  to 
crown  all  those  buildings,  there  straight  in 
front  of  him  stood  the  house,  the  plaster 
work  of  purest  white,  the  wooden  frames  of 
windows  and  blinds  green,  and  above  the 
red  tiles;  the  house  with  wide  high  steps  — 
and  —  on  those  steps  — 

Instinctively  Walter  took  off  his  hat,  — 
that  man  up  there  on  those  steps  was  Harders. 

"Well,  how  did  you  get  on?"  Van  Geuns 
enquired  on  Walter's  return,  "I  am  quite 
sure  that  you  joined  in  the  general  worship 
of  great  and  rich  men,  and  that  you  bowed 
deeply  to  Harders,  the  farmer,  the  very  man 
you  were  reviling  before." 

"How  do  you  know  that  ?"  Walter  answered, 
and  he  had  the  look  of  a  man  who  feels 
very  much  ashamed,  and  has  yet  no  intention 
of  hiding  the  fact.  On  the  contrary,  it  seemed 
quite  possible  that  if  this  shame  should  turn 
into  anger,  he  would  not  be  able  to  restrain 
himself. 


90  HARDERS 

'How  do  I  know  that?  —  well,  it  is  a  very 
natural  symptom,  very  human,  very  human  f 
First  we  abuse  those  great  and  rich  men,  ajid 
that,  of  course,  is  jealousy  I  Ha,  ha  I  who  is 
not  jealous  sometimes?  And  a  moment  after 
we  encounter  that  great  man,  and  without 
knowing  it  we  take  off  our  hats,  very 
deeply  and  very  humbly.  I  am  convinced 
that  you  took  off  your  hat  to  Harders,  did 
you  not  ?" 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  Walter's  voice 
sounded  distinctly  gruff;  surely,  his  anger 
could  not  be  far  off. 

"Just  as  I  thought,  you  were  very  humble; 
you  bowed  low,  rmy  msan,  and  shook  hands, 
and  you  smiled  in  an  ingratiating  way,  as  if 
you  wanted  to  say:  'Look  here,  we  must  be 
good  friends;  will  you?  You  are  a  great  man; 
but  so  am  I  in  my  own  way,  and  we  two  must 
join  together  for  the  good  of  the  parish !' 
And  it  is  quite  natural  that  you  did  this.  Who 
would  have  acted  otherwise?  All  people  are 
the  same.  And  Walter,  the  minister,  is  just 
like  other  people;  you  are  not  different  from 
other  people,  old  man!" 

"Go  on,"  said  Walter;  "you  are  in  excellent 
form;  you  have  not  quite  finished  yet;  you 
want  to  add  something  else,  and  I  know 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE    91 

what  will  follow."  He  was  on  the  point  of 
explosion 

"Quite  so,  if  I  want  to  have  my  whole  say, 
I  must  add  this;  the  reason  you  acted  in  this 
way,  my  man,  is  that  Harders  is  a  rich  man. 
Had  he  been  a  poor  man,  it  would  not  have 
entered  your  thoughts  to  stand  in  awe  of 
him;  you  are  no  better  than  your  whole 
parish,  you  also  serve  Mammon  I" 

"Stop!"  Walter  cried,  and  he  jumped  up 
from  his  chair.  "I  cannot  listen  to  you  any 
longer.  You  are  putting  me  on  the  rack  and 
you  like  to  see  me  there;  you  turn  on  the 
screws,  and  you  laugh  to  yourself  as  you  see 
the  pain  on  my  distorted  facef  The  deuce!" 

—  and   here   he   stopped   a  moment,   for  he 
had  a  feeling  as  if  he,  the  minister,  had  no 
right  to  use  such  strong  language  any  more, 

—  "I  am  no  better  than  my  fathers!!  Oh^  that 
stupid,  miserable  money  I  When  shall   I  ever 
be  a  free  man,  who  has  the  same  sentiments 
towards  a  rich  man  as  towards  a  poor  man? 
I  am  a  miserable  fellow!  You  are  right;  say 
anything  you  like  to  me!" 

He  paced  the  room  excitedly,  and  almost 
shrieked : 

"Do  you  know  what  I  did?  I  sat  down 
with  Harders  in  his  room  and  I  talked  about 


92  HARDERS 

his  fine  room  and  about  his  fine  house,  full 
of  praise  f  And  I  walked  outside  with  him  on 
his  farm,  and  I  talked  about  his  farm  and 
about  the  splendour  of  his  farm,  and  I  praised 
it  all.  And  all  the  time  he  had  a  look  on  his 
face  as  if  he  wished  to  say,  'I  know  all  about 
that.  So  many  people  have  told  me  the  same 
thing.'  And  I  talked  about  the  high  offices 
which  he  held  in  the  Town  council,  in  the 
polder,  and  as  a  churchwarden;  and  all  the 
time  he  had  a  look  on  his  face  wKich  meant : 
'I  suppose  the  minister  has  never  had  much 
to  do  with  high  offices  or  riches,  I  suppose 
the  minister  has  no  relations  who  hold  good 
posts  or  are  rich!'  Ye  devils!  I  stood  before 
the  altar  of  Mammon  all  morning1;  and  as 
a  very  small  person  brought  Him  offerings; 
and  Mammon,  that  is  Harders,  looked  down 
upon  me  all  the  time  wjith  a  Sphinx-like  face, 
so  that  even  now  I  do  not  know  if  I  pleased 
him  or  not.  And  when  I  came  home  I  was 
annoyed  about  my  own  stupidity,  and  I  was 
excited,  furious,  almost  mad.  For  I  feel  now 
that  I  have  been  blinded  by  the  same  thing 
that  blinds  other  people,  I  who,  when  we  were 
at  the  University,  said,  'When  I  am  a  minister, 
all  people  shall  be  equal  to  me,  and  I  shall 
take  very  good  care  that  I  am  not  influenced 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE    93 

by  what  humiliates  so  many  people,  the  slavish 
adoration  of  gold!'  Great  heavens!  How  could 
I  be  like  this  ? . . .  But  wait,  the  day  will'  come 
that  Harders  shall  know  that  I  do  not  care 
about  his  greatness  or  about  his  gold!  If  only 
I  meet  him  again,  then  I  shall  do  what,  no 
other  in  the  parish  has  dared  to  do !  I  shall 
show  more  respect  to  his  labourer  than  to 
him,  and  I  shall  humble  him  before 
his  servants!  And  the  whole  village  shall 
know  that  in  my  parish  money  does  not 
come  in  the  first  place,  and  that  there  shall 
be  no  princes  among  a  people  who  are 
all  equal!" 

And  as  Walter  said  this,  he  kicked  against 
the  chairs  and  tables,  as  if  he  were  trying  to 
destroy  Mammon's  altar  in  his  parish. 

"And  Harders,"  Van  Geuns  said  coolly,  "and 
Harders,  I  suppose,  did  not  say  a  single  stupid 
thing  during  your  conversation?  I  have  no 
doubt  all  the  nonsense  came  from  you  ?" 

This  was  too  much  for  Walter.  His  cup 
was  filled  to  the  brim  now;  he  knew  it,  and 
had  confessed  it  to  himself.  Harders  had 
done  nothing  which  had  given  him  the  right 
to  say  that  the  man  was  proud,  or  conceited, 
or  selfrighteous,  or  anything  else. 

He    pushed    open    the    garden    door    and 


94  HARDERS 

walked  out  into  his  garden  to  cool  down  under 
his  apple  and  pear  trees,  which  were  laden 
with  unripe  fruit,  but  whose  branches  before 
long  would  be  bent  with  the  weight  of  golden 
apples  and  pears. 

But  another  thing  would  come  about  before 
long;  namely,  that  Walter  would  belong  to  the 
people  who  honoured  Harders  with  a  respect 
which  no  one  Seemed  to  be  able  to  withhold 
from  him,  and  which  his  father  and  grand- 
father had  also  experienced  in  the  parish  of 
Eastloorn. 


On  the  other  side  of  the  river,  to  the!  south 
of  the  village,  lived  Jade,  one  of  Harders'  men. 

His  house  stood  among  huge  pieces  of 
marshy  land  that  Was  peat  bog.  All  that  peat 
bog  belonged  to  Harders. 

The  other  people  in  Eastloorn,  especially 
those  living  in  the  north  and  the  east  part 
of  the  village,  where  the  country  was  Higher, 
also  possessed  some  peat  soil;  but  that  was 
only  peat  moor. 

"Of  course,"  Walter  had  grumbled,  "all 
the  people  in  these  parts  have  peat-moor, 
jHarders  alone  possesses  peat-bo|gf  You  see, 
Van  Geuns,  you,  being  a  townsman,  cannot 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE    95 

understand  it;  the  peat-moor  is  simply  dug 
out  in  large  pieces  with  a  spade,  and  although 
it  is  a  useful  possession,  it  is  not  worth  yefry 
much.  But  the  peat  bog  is  much  deeper  down, 
and  must  be  dug  out  from  under  the  water; 
and  then  it  is  laid  out  to  dry  on  the  fields  and  is 
cut  into  small  pieces.  That  turf  is  worth  far 
more  than  that  cut  from  the  peat-moor.  It 
is  a  curious  thing  that  Harders,  who  has  so 
much  as  it  is,  should  also  have  that  advantage 
above  the  others.  Have  you  ever  seen  that 
great  marsh  on  the  other  side  of  the  river?" 

"You  need  not  explain  all  that  to  me," 
Van  Geuns  answered,  "did  the  masters  at 
school  not  teach  me  that  twenty  years  ago? 
It  is  amusing  to  see  ho'.w  much  you  libel  airing 
your  newjy  adquineid  wisdom!!" 

In  the  midst  of  Harders'  peat  hog  lived 
Jade.  His  house  was  situated  near  a  wide 
canal,  which  ran  into  the  river  VecKt  about  a 
mile  further  on.  The  communication  with  the 
river  was  by  means  of  a  lock. 

The  whole  moorland  was  crossed  with  wide 
or  narrow  canals  and  ditches,  and  many  scows 
were  to  be  seen  on  them,  on  which  the  men 
stood  with  long  sticks,  dragging  the  peat  and 
throwing  it  into  the  scow.  Looking  across  the 
moorland  one  could  see  neither  the  scows  nor 


96  HARDERS 

the  men,  only  here  and  there  the  long  sticks; 
occasionally  one  could  hear  the  sticks  splashing 
into  the  water,  and  the  sloppy  sound  of  the 
peat  as  it  was  thrown  on  to  the  other  peat 
in  the  scow. 

Godeke,  Jade's  wife,  sat  in  front  of  the 
house. 

"He  could  not  be  here  yet,"  she  thought; 
"it  cannot  be  so  very  late  yet."  She  looked,  up 
at  the  sun.  Several  hours  would  elapse  before 
the  sun  would  be  low  in  the  heavens  and 
set,  leaving  a  red  glow  in  the  distant  pool. 

"But  the  children  might  be  here;  the  school 
must  be  out  long  ago.  I  suppose  they  have 
gone  off  with  the  other  boys.  What  is  it  those 
children  do  when  they  go  into  the  woods  ?" 

She  took  one  potato  after  another  from  her 
lap  and  peeled  them  hastily,  for  there  was 
much  to  be  done.  They  fell  from  her  hard, 
rough  fingers  into  the  bucket  which  stood 
beside  her  on  the  ground.  She  did  her  work 
cheerfully,  for  hunger  and  care  were  not  known 
in  that  home. 

"Harders  is  a  good  man;"  were  her  thoughts; 
"tfhat  a  long  time  my  husband  has  been  in  his 
service  I  From  the  very  day  that  Jade  and  I 
came  from  Southloorn  to  look  for  work  Harders 
has  given  us  a  good  wage;  he  is  good  to  his 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE    97 

people;  and  we  live  on  those  wages  with  our 
children,  and  have  plenty  of  food  to  eat  and 
warm  clothes,  and  the  house  also  is  good." 
And,  almost  without  knowing  it,  sjie  prayed 
the  prayer  of  the  labourer  for  the  master 
who  is  kind. 

Harders'  men  did  not  aD  bless  him,  for  not 
all  of  them  were  good;  but  those  among  them 
who  were,  asked  a  blessing  for  him  in  their 
prayers.  That  was  an  old  custom  in  Eastloorn. 

She  looked  up  as  she  heard  the  splashing 
pf  a  boat,  which  was  pushed  along  by  means 
of  a  stick. 

Harders  himself  stood  erect  in  the  boat; 
he  had  come  to  watch  his  men.  At  regular 
intervals  the  stick  was  raised  above  the  water, 
and  at  regular  intervals  it  was  pushed  down 
to  the  bottom,  and  the  boat  came  nearer  and 
nearer,  passed  her  house  and  went  on. 

A  "How  do  you  do?"  came  from  both  sides, 
arid  the  man  disappeared  out  of  sight  at  the 
turning  of  the  canal,  where  his  men  were 
dragging  the  peat. 

"Why  did  he  not  stop  a  moment?"  Godeke 
thought;  "he  always  rests  here  and  comes 
in.  He  seems  to  be  in  a  great  hurry  to-day." 

But  she  did  not  think  of  it  any  more.  She 
got  up  and  went  to  the  well  behind  the  house, 

i 


98  HARDERS 

where  she  washed  the  potatoes  before  putting 
them  on  the  fire. 

Then  she  went  in  and  worked  hard  far 
an  hour  or  so,  for  there  are  many  things 
to  do  in  a  large  family.  That  hour  soon  passed. 

All  of  a  sudden  she  looked  up  on  hearing 
the  front  door  opened.  She  was  startled, 
because  the  hour  was  unusual.  "Jade,  you 
here  ?"  she  cried";  "how  is  that  ?  Why  have  you 
stopped  work  so  soon?" 

"I  have  stopped  for  always!"  was  the  man's 
answer,  and  he  seemed  stunned,  not  knowing 
whether  to  rage  or  to  weep,  like  a  child. 

The  woman  stopped  lighting  the  fire  and 
stood  quite  still  with  a  bundle  of  sticks  in 
her  hand,  with  staring  eyes  as  one  who  cannot 
think. 

"Yes,  stand  there  and  stare  at  me,"  Jade 
said,  and  threw  himself  on  a,  chair.  "We  can 
go  away  to-morrow,  for  ever  away  from  this 
house,  with  the  children  and  with  all  we 
possess!  Harders  has  said  it!" 

"Sent  away?  Sent  away?  You,  Jade,  you? 
What  have  you  done?" 

And,  for  the  very  first  time  since  her 
marriage,  a  suspicion  was  roused  in  the  woman 
against  the  man  of  whom  she  had  never 
thought  ill  in  her  life.  It  could  not  possibly 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE     99 

enter  into  the  head  of  any  .good  man  pr 
woman  in  Eastloorn  that  Harders  would  have 
done  wrong  or  acted  in  an  unjust  way. 

"I  have  stolen,  wife,  stolen!  Harders  has 
said  it  himself;  I  have  stolen  a  whole  scow 
of  turf;  have  you  understood  it?  Stolen!  I!" 
He  almost  choked  over  the  words. 

"Why  do  you  not  ask  me  about  it?"  Jade 
shrieked ;  "do  you  not  want  to  know  the  rest  ? 
Speak  then,  and  ask  me  about  it,  I  will  tell 
you  all!" 

But  no  question  was  framed  by  her  lips; 
there  was  no  questioning  look  in  those  eyes 
or  on  the  woman's  face.  If  it  were  possible  for 
a  corpse  to  stand  straight  up,  with  wide, 
staring  eyes  in  which  death  could  be  seen, 
Godeke  might  have  been  that  corpse. 

"It  happened  in  this  way,  woman,!  I  will  tell 
you  how  it  happened!  Harders  told  me  how 
it  was,  himself!"  And  Jade  shrieked  out  the 
story.  "The  day  before  yesterday  we  took  six 
scows  of  turf  to  town;  the,  threje  of  us,  I, 
Hutten  and  Ekkel.  You  know  the  other  two; 
they  drink,  and  do  not  belong  to  our  village. 
And  in  the  evening  we  arrived  in  town  and 
brought  the  scows  to  the  dealer's  house.  Then 
we  went  to  sleep;  we  were  going  to  unload  them 
the  next  day.  But  in  the  morning  there  were 


ioo  HARDERS 

only  five  scows  1  Hutten  and  Ekken  would 
not  unload,  but  went  to  Harders  and  told 
him  about  it,  and  invented  the  rest,  and  now 
Harders  says  that  I  took  that  scow  in  the 
night,  and  took  it  away,  took  it  away,  no  one 
knows  where  to  I  I  only  know  where  that  scow 
is,  I  only  know!  Harders  has  said  sol" 

Jade  shrieked  and  shrieked,  with  foaming 
mouth  and  wild  eyes. 

Neither  the  man  nor  the  woman  had  noticed 
the  children,  who  had  come  stealing  in.  But 
the  frightened  children  clung  to  their  mother 
with  a  questioning  look  in  their  eyes,  as  if 
they  were  asking:  "Is  that  father?" 

"Away,  children,  away,  children!"  Jade 
cried,  when  he  noticed  them.  "You  must  all  go 
away !  All  of  you,  and  mother  and  I  also. 
Harders  has  said  so!  Your  father  is'  a  thief!" 

At  last  the  woman,  who  had  been  as  dead, 
came  to  life  again.  She  had  stood  there  with 
death  in  her  soul,  and  when  her  lips  moved 
slowly,  she  gasped: 

"If  Harders  has  said  it,  it  must  be  so! 
Oh,  Jade,  JadeU  That  I  never  thp.'ugfhtl 
Jade!  You!" 

As  long  as  could  be  remembered  in  East- 
loom  no  one  bearing  the  name  of  Harders 
had  ever  lied  or  done  an  injustice,  so  no. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  101 

good  person  in  Eastloorn  could  possibly 
believe  that  a  member  of  that  family  could 
do  anything  that  was  not  just  or  right.  Even 
a  woman  who  since  the  day  of  her  marriage 
had  never  thought  ill  of  her  husband  believed 
in  his  guilt  sooner  than  she  would  believe 
that  Harders  could  do  anything  which  was 
not  perfectly  justifiable  in  the  eyes  of  every 
right-minded  person  in  Eastloorn. 

The  next  day  there  was  an  empty  house 
at  the  canal  in  the  moorland.  The  door  had 
been  left  open.  Why  should  it  be  shut?  There 
was  no  table  in  the  room,  and  no  chair,  and 
no  bed.  The  flies  flew  in  and  out,  and  out 
and  in. 

No  one  came  near  the  house  for  some  time, 
except  an  occasfonal  labourer  who  wanted  a 
drink  of  pure  water  from  the  well  on  his 
way  to  work. 

And  every  one  still  called  it:  Jade's  house. 


"Have  you  heard  about  it?"  Walter  asked 
Van  Geuns,  "have  you  heard  what  Harders 
has  done  now?" 

''Yes,  I  have  heard  it,"  Van  Geuns  answered, 
"and  I  have  seen  it  too!  While  you  were 
out  this  morning  they  came  past  this  house, 


102  HARDERS 

poor  souls !  It  was  a  sad  procession.  That 
man  Jade  had  harnessed  himself  with  a  rope 
to  a  hand-cart;  his  wife  pushed  and  steered 
the  cart;  several  children  followed  her,  and 
some  others  were  sitting  on  the  cart.  I 
suppose  those  were  all  their  worldly  pos- 
sessions which  were  on  the  cart,  a  bed,  a 
table,  a  few  chairs,  and  some  :rubbish  on  the 
top.  And  so  they  passed  by.  Your  housekeeper 
told  me  they  were  going  back  to  Southloorn, 
where  they  used  to  live  before  Harders  gave 
the  man  work.  They  could  not  suffer  the 
humiliation  of  remaining  here  among  all  the 
villagers  who  had  known  them  to  be  respectable 
people  for  so  long.  It  Was  a  sad  procession  I" 
"I  saw  them  at  the  other  end  of  the 
village.  No  one  in  the  whole  village  spoke 
to  the  people.  They  avoided  Jade,  all  of  them. 
He  went  away  in  silence.  No  man  came  out 
of  his  house  to  shake  hands  with  him,  and 
to  say :  'Jade,  I  believe  in  your  innocence  I* 
No  woman  crossed  the  road  to  say  to  the 
wife:  'Godeke,  here  is  some  bread,  take  that 
for  your  children  1'  The  fear  of  that  old  name 
of  Harders  is  so  deep-rooted  that  no  one  dared 
to  accuse  him  of  being  rash.  It  is  a  shame! 
When  that  one  man  condemns  any  one,  the 
whole  village  sends  him  to  Coventry.  It  is 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  103 

a  shame !  But  I  spoke  to  him,  I  stopped  him 
at  the  brigde.  And  I  said :  Jade,  shake  hands 
with  me!'  The  poor  wretch  did  not  dare  to 
take  my  hand,  but  said:  'Let  me  pass,  sir,  I 
am  a  thief;  Harders  has  said  so!'  Do  you 
know  that  even  his  wife  believes  he  did  it? 
It  is  a  terrible  thing  that  the  woman  believes 
in  the  infallibility  of  that  farmer  more  than 
in  her  husband's  honesty." 

"You  had  better  not  judge  too  hastily  either, 
my  man!"  Van  Geuns  answered.  "You  are 
prejudiced  against  that  farmer  for  reasons  we 
know  of;  but  if  you  will  not  be  sensible,  which 
I  have  always  imagined  you  to  be,  just 
postpone  your  judgment!  Surely  he  would  not 
dismiss  a  labourer  for  nothing,  a  labourer  who 
has  served  him  all  these  years !" 

"No,  no,  I  know  what  I  shall  do.  Before 
the  evening  comes  I  shall  have  been  to  Harders, 
and  he  shall  hear  from  my  mouth  what  every 
ome  thinks,  and  no  one  dares  to  say!  To 
think  that  such  a  man  is  honoured  in  that 
manner.!  I  cannot  understand  how  he  deserves 
it !  It  is  the  power  of  money  which  has  given 
him  this  great  influence,  and  nothing  else!" 

"I  do  not  know,"  Van  Geuns  objected,  "but, 
if  it  were  that  only,  it  would  be  a  sad  blot 
against  your  parishioners,  whom  you  have 


104  HARDERS 

always  held  so  high!  I  do  not  know,  but 
there  must  be  something  else  about  that 
Harders  which  makes  all  the  people  have 
such  faith  in  him  (  Perhaps  we  shall  hear  one 
day  what  has  made  him  and  his  forefathers 
so  great  in  the  eyes  of  all  the  people.  And 
perhaps  we  shall  also  join  in  giving  him  the 
respect  which  he  seems  to  get  from  every 
one  elsel" 

Unwittingly,  Van  Geuns  was  a  prophet  in 
this  case,  for,  although  it  was  late  autumn 
before  it  happened,  the  day  came;  and  that 
day  brought  a  greater  surprise  to  Walter  than 
he  had  ever  knoiwn  before. 


It  was  one  evening  when  Walter  was 
sitting  quietly  in  his  room. 

His  sitting-room  was  his  study  and  his 
study  was  his  sitting-room.  Being  a  bachelor, 
he  made  no  difference  between  the  two.  He 
noticed  that  all  the  ministers  of  the  district 
whom  he  knew  made  a  very  great  difference 
between  their  study  and  their  sittings-room. 
But  they  were  all  married,  and  in  that  case  the 
wife  wished  it. 

And  so  he  sat  among  his  books  that  evening, 
calmly  and  quietly  among  his  books,  which 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  105 

lay  scattered  about  him  in  heaps,  on  the 
table,  on  the  chairs,  on  the  couch,  and  all 
over,  where  there  was  room  for  them. 

He  did  not  think  of  the  possibility  that 
any  one  could  come  and  call  on  him  at  that 
hour. 

"No  one  comes  to  see  me  in  the  evening," 
he  had  once  said  to  Van  Geuns;  "the  farmers 
rarely  call  on  me.  If  I  were  married  it 
might  be  different,  but  I  am  a  bachelor, 
and  who  would  think  of  coming  to  have  a 
chat  here?'4 

And  one  day  he  said  to  his  housekeeper: 
"When  we  have  finished  dinner  you  can  lock 
the  door  for  the  night,  for  no  one  ever  comes 
so  lateJ"  His  colleagues  in  the  towns  envied 
him  when  he  told  them  about  it. 

(But  on  this  evening  there  was  a  ring  at 
the  bell,  and  with  some  surprise  he  saw  a  man 
standing  at  the  door,  one  whom  he  had 
expected  to  see  least  of  alL 

"Harders!"   he   exclaimed. 

The  man  sat  down  in  a  chair  opposite  him. 
In  Walter's  eyes  this  man  was  a  lion  whom 
he  had  not  been  able  to  tame. 

Without  knowing  it,  his  admiration  once 
more  got  the  better  of  him.  The  man  was 
half  a  head  taller  than  he-.  A  big,  broad  head 


io6  HARDERS 

rested  on  his  shoulders,  shoulders  which  could 
have  carried  an  ox.  And  that  head  was  not 
ugly.  On  the  contrary,  his  eyes  were  open  and 
full  of  courage,  with  a  clear,  calm  look.  His 
lips  were  finely  cut  and  looked  kind.  His 
forehead  was  high,  although  it  did  not  look 
it,  because  of  the  hair  which  fell  over  it. 
Instinctively  Walter's  admiration  got  the  better 
of  him,  although  he  fought  against  that 
admiration. 

"Sir,"  —  it  was  Harders  who  spoke  first, 
and  it  irritated  Walter,  because  he  had  not 
known  how  to  begin  himself,  —  "Sir,  I  have 
not  seen  you  since  you  were  with  me  six  weeks 
ago.  Then  you  thought  it  necessary  to  come 
and  scold  me  about  What  I  had  done  to  Jade." 

"I  know  that  quite  well,"  Walter  answered, 
"and  I  saw  no  reason  to  come  and  see  you 
again.  We  did  not  part  in  a  very  friendly, 
manner  that  time!  And  after  that  conversation 
you  surely  could  not  expect  that  we  should 
pretend  that  nothing  had  happened,  and  engage 
in  small  talk." 

"I  have  dreaded  coming  to  you.  But  I  must 
do  what  is  right.  And,  although  this  step  cost 
me  much,  because  it  is  a  right  one  I  had  to 
take  it.  I  have  something  to  say  to  you,  sir! 
I  have  accused  Jade  wrongly!" 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  107 

Fo,r  a  short  moment  a  look  of  triumph,  came 
into  Walter's  eyes.  He  felt  himself  to  be 
greater  than  Harders,  but  he  was  very  careful 
not  to  show  it.  He  was  silent  and  so  gave 
Harders  time  to  continue.  He  was  prepared 
to  hear  the  confession  of  a  proud  man. 

And  slowly,  very  slowly,  as  if  it  were  a 
very  difficult  task,  the  farmer  told  the  story 
of  what  he  had  discovered  later  on.  His 
decision  had  been  influenced  by  facts  which 
pleaded  against  Jade,  facts  and  circumstances 
which  had  been  related  to  him.  Also,  the  man 
Jade  had  had  soimtething  secretive  about  him, 
although  he  had  been  in  his  service  for  so 
many  years;  he  had  never  made  a  friend  of 
his  master,  which  would  have  been  quite  easy, 
during  all  those  years.  Harders  was  quite 
willing  to  admit  that  this  might  have  been 
just  a  trait  in  Jade's  character.  Hutten  and 
Ekkel  had  been  the  thieves ;  they  had  taken  the 
scow,  full  of  turf,  to  a  neighbouring  public- 
house,  where  they  were  in  the  habit  of  drinking 
their  beer  and  their  gin,  and  with  the  turf 
they  had  settled  a  heavy  bill.  It  had  all  leaked 
out;  he  himself  had  got  it  out  of  the  men;  no 
policeman  or  mayor  had  been  mixed  up  in 
the  matter.  He  had  accused  Jade  innocently, 
and  the  wrong  weighed  heavily  on  him. 


io8  HARDERS 

"That  is  not  like  a  man  bearing  the  name 
of  Harders!"  Walter  said,  with  a  touch  of 
irony  whiich  he  could  not  hide, 

"You  are  right,  sir,"  Harders  said,  and  a 
dark  red  covered  the  face  which  had  not  often 
had  to  blush  for  shame  before.  "But  you  must 
not  accuse  my  family,  sir,  of  things  which 
I  alone  am  to  be  blamed  for!" 

Walter  bit  his  lips,  but  continued:  "Quite 
right,  —  but  it  is  not  like  a  man  who  has  the 
name  of  being  good  and  just  and  righteous, 
and  I  do  not  know  what  else!" 

"You  are  right,  sir,"  was  again  the  answer, 
but,  although  it  was  said  humbly,  it  was  clear 
that  it  was  difficult  for  the  man  to  give  in. 

"And  it  is  a  thing  which  is  very  difficult 
to  put  right,  almost  unforgivable  I  Have  you 
pictured  to  yourself  how  that  man  must  have 
suffered  for  weeks  and  weeks,  a  man  whose 
honest,  untainted  name  you  have  dragged 
through  the  mire  ?  Have  you  thought  of  the  wife, 
whose  love  for  her  husband  you  have  broken  ?" 

"You  are  right,  sir,"  he  said  once  more, 
but  Walter  saw  that  he  almost  choked  over 
his  words,  as  if  they  were  words  of  fire. 

Walter  hesitated ;  he  was  afraid  to.  isay  any 
more,  for  he  saw  that  the  man  was  giving 
himself  a  worse  punishment  than  he  could  dot. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  109 

He  could  scarcely  imagine  that  the  man 
sitting  opposite  him  was  really  Harders. 

''You  may  go  on,  sir,  and  say  anything 
you  like  to  me.  I  have  deserved  it,  and  I  will 
listen!"  And  he  waited  for  the  -rest  of  the 
minister's  speech. 

But  Walter  was  upset.  He  did  not  under- 
stand the  man;  he  did  not  know  him.  That  was 
not  Harders;  Harders  as  he  had  always 
pictured  him. 

"I  thought  that  the  minister  must  be  the 
first  person  to  hear  about  it.  When  you 
reproved  me,  six  weeks  ago,  I  would  not 
listen  to  you;  but  I  feel  that  now  I  must  tell 
you  how  much  I  really  deserved  your  reproof, 
and  how  just  you  were  in  scolding  me.  That 
is  what  I  had  to  put  right  with  you." 

'•'Come,  come,"  Walter  said,  in  a  gentler 
voice,  "let  that  be!"  He  felt  that  this  humilia- 
tion was  very  painful  to  the  man,  and  to 
give  a  turn  to  the  conversation  he  enquired: 
"But  what  do  you  think  of  doing,  in  order, 
to  put  things  right  with  Jade?" 

"I  do  not  intend  to  tell  you  that,  sir,"  he 
answered:  and  Walter  knew  it  was  not  pride 
which  made  him  say  it.  "But  everything  shall 
be  put  right  with  him  also." 

And  with  these  words  the  tall  man  rose  to  go, 


no  HARDERS 

"No,  I  cannot  stay  any  longer,"  he  said, 
when  Walter  motioned  to  him  to  stay;  "how 
could  I  talk  to  you  about  other  things;  I 
cannot  think  about  anything  else." 

And  when  the  man  was  outside,  a  minister 
stood  in  his  study  ashamed;  he  scarcely  knew 
himself  what  had  brought  about  this  sense 
of  shame. 

He  still  tried  to  fight  against  that  feeling 
of  admiration,  which  the  man  had  roused  in 
him,  but  it  was  a  weak  fight,  as  of  one  who 
almost  surrenders. 


When  on  the  next  day  —  it  was  a  Sunday  — 
the  people  of  the  Reformed  Church  came  out 
of  God's  house,  Harders  was  among  the  first 
to  be  outside  on  the  Square. 

"Do  not  go  away,"  he  called  out  to  the 
people;  "I  have  something  to  say  to  you!" 
He  stood  by  the  door  of  the  church,  and 
kept  all  the  others  from  going  away  too. 

The  men  and  women,  full  of  curiosity,  stood 
still,  and  they  gathered  round  him  in  great 
numbers,  and  it  was  a  strange  sight  that 
they  saw. 

"Men  and  women !"  he  cried  in  a  loud  voice, 
and  they  could  all  see  him,  for  he  was  a 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  in 

full  head  taller  than  most  of  them,  —  "I 
stand  here  in  front  of  you  to  tell  you  that  I 
have  wrongly  accused  Jade,  my  servant,  of 
theft!  I  have  taken  away  his  honour,  and 
I  must  give  him  back  that  honour,  here,  openly, 
and  where  all  of  you  can  hear  it  I" 

He  stopped,  as  if  he  were  almost  choked 
by  his  words,  but  continued  with  an 
effort : 

"I  implore  each  one  of  you  who  has  thought 
ill  of  Jade  to  change  your  mind,  and  to  give 
him  the  respect  which  is  due  to  an  honest  man. 
Let  the  disgrace  be  upon  me!  I  declare 
solemnly  that  I  have  become  unworthy  of  the 
name  of  my  forefathers  by  an  injustice  such 
as  has  never  been  committed  before  in  my 
family  I  I  shall  not  wonder  if  none  of  you 
respects  me  any  longer;  I  shall  understand 
if  you  shun  and  avoid  me!  What  is  right 
must  be  done  1" 

The  people  had  no  time  to  think.  It  was  all 
too  sudden.  They  stood  silent  and  still,  as 
if  they  had  not  understood  his  words. 

And  only  when  Harders  was  gone,  and  was 
walking  up  the  road  which  led  towards  his 
house,  a  solitary  figure,  despised,  as  he 
imagined,  by  the  whole  village,  only  then  they 
began  to  talk  quietly  and  softly,  and  very 


ii2  HARDERS 

soon  they  parted,  each  one  going  to  his 
own  house. 

Wiegen,  alone,  followed  him,  Wiegen,  the 
Dreamer.  The  villagers  watched  him  walking 
beside  Harders,  talking  cheerfully,  until  they 
parted  at  the  end  of  the  village. 

And  Sander,  the  deacon,  one  of  a  small 
group  of  men  who  were  walking  together,  said : 

l'l  consider  that  Harders  has  honoured 
our  Church  by  his  confession  of  guilt!"  And 
all  the  other  men  of  the  Reformed  Church 
were  of  the  same  opinion. 

And  when  the  elders  of  the  Dissenting 
Church,  who  had  already  heard  the  news,  were 
walking  home,  Schepers  remarked :  "I  consider 
it  a  privilege  for  the  Reformed  Church  that 
they  number  such  men,  who  can  do  what 
is  right,  even  if  this  doing  right  means 
humiliation !" 

Walter  began  to  understand  now  how  It 
was  possible  that  for  many  years  this  man 
bad  been  more  respected  in  his  village  than 
any  other  man. 


A  thing  happened  on  the  following  Monday 
which  filled  all  the  inhabitants  of  Eastloprn 
with  a  great  pride;  they  had  not  felt  so  proud 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  113 

for  many  a  day,  and  it  was  talked  about  for 
months  and  years  after. 

It  was  quite  early  still.  But  Harders  was  seen, 
sitting  in  a  cart  driving  from  "Great  Bule" 
towards  the  village.  It  was  the  big  cart  which 
was  used  to  carry  heavy  loads,  the  one  without 
a  tilt,  so  that  every  one  could  see  that  the 
rich  farmer  was  going  to  fetch  something  or 
other.  In  this  manner  Harders  drove  towards 
the  village  and  right  through  it. 

Very  soon  all  the  villagers  were  talking 
about  it. 

Two  women,  Fenne  and  Snippe,  who  received 
parochial  relief,  lived  in  the  first  cottages  as 
you  entered  the  village.  These  two  old 
women  always  had  something  to  say  to  one 
another,  and  they  were  generally  more  out 
of  doors  than  inside,  for  they  never  entered 
each  other's  cottage. 

"I  wonder  what  Harders  is  going  to  do 
with  the  big  cart?"  Snippe  remarked. 

"He  will  be  going  to  town,"  was  the  answer, 
"to  get  rape-seed  cakes  for  his  cattle." 

"You  know  quite  well  that  he  never  goes 
to  town  for  that!  He  has  plenty  of  hay  and 
fodder  and  never  needs  to  buy  any!" 

"Then  he  will  be  buying  meal  for  his  pigs." 

"Why  do  you  say  that,  Fenne?  You  know 

t 


114  HARDERS 

quite  well  that  he  has  plenty  of  potatoes  in 
his  fields  to  feed  all  his  pigs!" 

"Then  he  will  be  getting  a  cart-load  of 
turf  for  his  fireplace." 

"Why  do  you  say  that,  Fenne?  You  know 
as  well  as  I  do  that  his  turf-barns  are  over 
there  on  the  moorland,  near  Jade's  house ! 
And  that  is  in  the  other  direction!" 

"Why  do  you  not  say  what  he  is  going 
to  do?"  the  other  answered  snappily,  for 
Fenne  enjoyed  teasing  her  old  neighbour,  who 
was  ten  years  .older  than  she1,  and  she  I4ked 
exciting  her  curiosity. 

"I  know  quite  well  where  he  has  gone  to 
with  the  big  cart,"  Snippe  shrieked. 

"And  I  know  too!"  Fenne  said,  bitingly. 

Peace  was  at  an  end  between  the  two  for 
that  day  and  angrily  the  old  women  withdrew 
each  to  her  own  room. 

The  thing  which  neither  of  them  had  wished 
to  say  to  the  other,  but  which  both  had  under- 
stood, was  that  Harders  had  gone  to  fetch 
back  his  servant,  if  Jade  were  willing  to  come. 

And  the  whole  village  knew  it. 

And  they  acted  nobly,  those  people.  No 
one  came  to  the  door  out  of  curiosity.  Each 
one  of  them  felt  that  it  was  a  painful  journey 
which  this  man  was  taking.  And  if  any  one 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  115 

happened  to  be  out  on  the  street  he  went  into 
the  house  quickly,  so  that  he  might  save 
Harders  the  humiliation  of  being  seen.  The 
street  was  empty.  And  Harders  knew  why  the 
street  was  empty.  He  drove  through  the 
deserted  village  and  across  the  bridge.  He 
did  not  have  to  greet  any  one.  And  the  love 
wh'ich  he  had  always  felt  for  his  people  grew. 

Only  one  person  came  outside ;  Mrs.  Goestel, 
the  well-to-do  widow  of  a  baker,  a  woman 
of  his  own  rank,  who  had  known  his  father. 
She  crossed  the  street  to  speak  to  him :  "Shake 
hands  with  me,  spin  of  old  Harders!"  she 
said;  "you  are  doing  right.  May  God  bless 
you!"  And  that  was  all  she  said. 

When  he  arrived  in  Southloorn  he  did  not 
know  where  to  find  Jade,  and  he  was  forced 
to  enquire  where  he  lived.  It  was  very  painful, 
but  he  questioned  bravely,  until  he  learned 
where  to  find  him. 

When  he  stopped  his  horse  in  front  of  the 
house  he  said  to  himself:  "Rest  in  peace, 
father!  I  shall  do  what  is  right;  I  shall  not 
be  ashamed !"  And  he  went  in. 

Jade  never  told  any  one  what  Harders  said 
to  him  in  that  room.  And  Godeke  never  told 
any  one,  either. 

"No    one    must    ever   ask    Jade    about    it," 


ii6  HARDERS 

Sander  safd  afterwards  to  the  people,  who 
talked  about  it.  "Do  you  think  that  a  confession 
of  guilt  is  public  property?" 

But  after  Harders  had  spoken  for  some 
time,  the  neighbours  saw  him  carrying  out 
a  bed  on  hijs  head  and  loading;  it  on  to  the 
cart;  and  they  saw  that  he  carried  out  chairs 
and  a  table,  and  that  he  helped  Jade  to  put  it  all 
on  to  the  cart.  And  they  saw  that  he  helped 
Godeke  up  on  to  the  cart,  and  he  placed  her 
in  front  on  the  seat  next  to  Jade.  There  was 
only  room  for  two  on  the  seat. 

"But  you  should  sit  here/'  Godeke  had 
said;  "and  Jade,  you  must  walk!" 

But  the  farmer  answered:  "No,  stay  where 
you  arel" 

And  he  had  taken  the  reins  and  walked 
beside  the  cart,  as  if  he  felt  that  only  by 
walking  he  could  atone  for  the  injuries  done 
to  these  people  and  their  children. 

He  walked  beside  the  cart  all  the  long  way 
from  Southloorn  to  Eastloorn.  The  man  and 
woman  on  the  cart  felt  ashamed;  but  they 
could  not  prevent  it.  Whenever  any  one  passed 
they  wanted  to  get  down,  but  Harders  would 
not  allow  it. 

They  also  saw  Mr.   Senserff,   the  minister, 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  117 

coming  along  the  road  towards  them.  And 
again  Jade  and  Godeke  tried  to  get  down, 
but  H aiders  would  not  allow  it.  But  the 
minister  suddenly  turned  into  a  side  path  on 
the  moor,  where  Schepers'  sheep  were  grazing, 
and  they  saw  Senserff  talking  to  Soer,  the 
shepherd  lad.  He  stood  with  his  back  turned 
to  the  road  and  pretended  not  to  see  them, 
Harders  felt  a  great  love  for  the  minister  of 
the  Dissenting  Church. 

And,  even  when  they  approached  the  village 
and  had  to  cross  the  bridge,  Harders  walked 
beside  the  cart  as  if  he  were  the  servant  of  the 
man  he  was  driving.  And  Jade  and  Godeke 
wished  he  ha,d  taken  the  tilt-cart,  they  sat  so 
high  up,  in  full  view  of  all  who  went  by.  They 
passed  the  school,  and  the  church,  and  the  vica- 
rage, and  rows  of  houses,  and  Harders  walked 
beside  the  cart,  holding  the  reins  in  his  hand. 

When  they  had  passed  the  last  cottage,  and 
had  turned  into  the  road  which  led  to  the 
moorland,  the  two  old  women  emerged  from 
their  respective  rooms. 

"I  knew  quite  well  that  Harders  had  gone 
to  fetch  Lis  servant!"  Snippe  snapped. 

"Just  as  if  I  did  not  know;  it  tool"  Fenne 
answered,  with  an  angry  laugh. 

"Why  did  you  not  say  so  then?" 


Ii8  HARDERS 

"I  was  afraid  you  would  go  and  stand  staring 
at  your  door,  with  your  mouth  wide  open. 
It  was  not  a  sight  to  look  at!" 

And  Snippe  went  inside,  furious;  —  that 
day  the  two  old  women  did  not  speak  another 
word  to  each  other.  It  was  always  a  bad  day 
for  the  two  when  they  were  not  on  speaking 
terms.  For  they  both  preferred  a  quarrel  with 
words  to  friendship  in  silence. 

But,  as  the  cart  disappeared  in  the  distance, 
it  was  followed  by  the  admiration  of  an  entire 
village,  an  un-expressed  admiration. 

It  was  not  customary  In  Eastloorn  to  honour 
a  man  by  following  him  with  palm  branches; 
neither  was  it  the  custom  to  shout  his  praises. 
on  the  streets.  Theirs  was  an  admiration  and 
respect  which  lived  pnly  in  their  hearts  as 
silent  prayers.  The  blessing  of  hundreds 
hovered  about  the  cart,  as  it  vanished  out  of 
sight. 


That   winter   Eastloorn's   mayor  died. 

Every  one  was  saying  that  Harders  would 
be  elected  mayor. 

The  elders  of  both  Churches  came  to  him 
one  by  one,  urging  him  to  send  in  a  request 
to  this  effect. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  119 

And  one  day  the  Governor  of  the  province 
came  to  the  village  and  called  on  Harders, 
the  farmer. 

Every  one  presumed  that  he  also  considered 
Harders  the  right  man  for  the  post. 

But  Harders  would  not  accept.  He  could 
never  be  persuaded.  "That  is  on  account  of 
that  affair  about  Jade,"  the  people  said:  "if 
only  that  had  not  occurred!" 

Even  Walter  considered  the  man  humble, 
and  great  in  his  humility.  Walter,  who  not 
very  long  ago  looked  upon  him  as  being  proud 
and  conceited.  He  could  also  understand  now 
how  a  name  can  be  respected  for  year  after 
year  in  a  village,  and  what  was  the  secret  of 
that  respect. 

Another  mayor  was  chosen.  But  in  reality 
the  post  was  held  by  the  man  who  had  refused 
it;  he  was  morally  the  mayor. 

"My  parish  is  increasing,"  Wiegen,  the 
Dreamer,  remarked  one  evening,  when  he  was 
chatting  with  the  other  men  on  the  Square, 
They  had  been  talking  about  Harders,  and 
Wiegen  said  it  cheerfully. 


IV 
THE  MINISTER'S  WIFE 

They  had  buried  her;  they  were  quite  sure 
of  that. 

But  how  was  it,  then,  that  she  was  still 
there?  Always  there  I 

When  the  Dissenting  elders  came  to  the 
vicarage  after  church,  Senserff  received  them 
in  the  same  room  where  his  wife  had  received 
them  before,  a  room  with  windows  opening 
out  into  the  garden. 

Nothing   was   changed. 

Some  flowers  were  on  the  table,  freshly 
gathered,  as  was  always  the  case;  that  must 
have  been  her  work. 

Her  writing-table  stood  in  a  corner  by  the 
window  with  some  photographs  on  it,  and 
writing-paper  with  a  pen  lying  beside  it,  and 
a  number  of  other  trifles  and  knick-knacks. 

And,  quite  close  to  it,  her  work-basket;  a 
piece  of  stuff,  with  a  needle  and  thread  stuck 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  121 

in  it,  hung  halfway  out  as  if  she  had  been  busy 
sewing  a  moment  ago. 

And  on  the  walls  a  hundred  and  one  things 
that  a  woman  likes ;  rather  too  many  in  the  eyes 
of  the  elders,  who  were  accustomed  to  see 
nothing  but  a  picture  and  a  calendar  at  home. 

Then  the  elders  sat  down,  and  began  to 
talk  about  a  point  in  the  sermon,  or  about  a 
poor  family  who  must  be  visited,  or  about 
the  week's  news. 

They  went  on  talking-,  while  the  housekeeper 
poured  out  the  coffee,  handed  it  round,  and 
went  away  again;  for  Senserff  did  not  allow 
her  to  sit  in  the  room;  her  place  was  in  the 
kitchen  when  she  was  not  required. 

But  as  the  elders  went  on  talking,,  it  seemed 
as  if  they  thought:  "Mrs.  Senserff  must  be 
in  the  other  room;  she  will  have  something  to 
do,  so  that  she  cannot  come  in  to-day." 

And  sometimes  they  seemed  on  the  point 
of  asking:  "Is  Mrs.  Senserff  quite  well,  sir?" 
They  had  to  take  very  good  care  not  to  make 
that  serious  mistake. 

How  could  she  have  been  buried?  She  was 
still  in  the  vicarage!  Only  in  the  other  room! 

And  she  was  also  in  the  hut  of  the  poor, 
at  their  sickbeds. 


122          THE    MINISTER'S   WIFE 

Do  you  say  she  was  no  longer  there?  Yet 
they  seemed  always  to  expect  her. 

One  day  a  message  was  sent  to  the  vicarage 
saying  that  the  Avife  of  Sander,  the  day- 
labourer,  who  lived  behind  the  school,  was  ill. 
And  they  all  felt  quite  sure  that  the  minister's 
wife  would  call,  as  she  had  always  done. 

Never  before  had  a  message  been  sent  in 
vain  to  the  vicar's  wife.  And  when  she  came 
in,  the  room  seemed  to  be  filled  with  heavenly 
Beauty  and  Goodness.  The  dark  room  was 
flooded  with  light  as  she  walked  to  the  bed- 
side and  sat  down;  she  was  never  in  a  hurry 
on  such  an  occasion.  "A  doctor,  or  a  minister, 
or  a  nurse,  who  is  in  a  hurry,  is  no  good  for 
sick  people,"  she  often  said.  She  was  full  of 
heavenly  patience.  She  talked  in  a  soft  voice; 
it  was  not  whispering,  for  there  was  a  gentle 
melody  in  her  voice.  And  then  she  unpacked 
what  she  had  brought  with  her;  bread  for 
the  children,  clothes,  and  wine  and  a  delicacy 
for  the  invalide.  And  long  after  she  had  gone 
a  soft,  sweet  light  illuminated  the  room.  No 
one  sorrowed  when  she  left,  for  she  always 
promised  to  come  back,  either  the  same  day 
or  the  next.  That  was  formerly. 

And,  behold !  when  Sander's  wife  sent  a 
message  to  the  vicarage,  all  sorts  of  things 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  123 

were  brought  to  her  the  same  afternoon,  bread 
for  the  children,  wine  fqr  herself,  and  a 
special  dish  which  had  been  prepared  for  her. 

"Who  brought  it?"  she  said  to  her  children. 
"I  was  asleep;  has  the  minister's  wife  bipen 
here  ?'J  But  she  collected  her  thoughts,  as  some 
one  does  who  is  just  awake  and  remembers  that 
he  has  said  a  foolish  thing.  But  if  she  had  said 
what  was  on  the  tip  of  her  tongue  it  would 
have  been:  "Did  the  minister's  wife  tell  you 
whether  she  was  coming  back  this  evening? 
For  I  should  not  like  to  be  asleep  again  when 
she  comes." 

All  those  who  were  ill  felt  as  if  she  had  newly 
been  to  see  them  and  was  going  to  come  again 
quite  soon.  When  she  did  not  come,  they 
supposed  that  she  had  no  time,  and  had 
something  to  do  at  home. 

She  was  still  there  then.  She  still  came  to 
visit  the  sick  in  the  huts  of  the  poor.  How 
could  any  one  say  then  that  she  had  been 
buried? 

She  was  also  to  be  found  in  the  wood. 

Do  you  think  that  she  did  not  walk  in  the 
wood  any  more  ? 

Edcle,  the  wood-cutter,  used  to  See  her 
sitting  there  on  fine  days,  leaning  against  the 


124          THE    MINISTER'S   WIFE 

trunk  of  a  tree  in  the  sun,  with  a  small  child 
on  her  lap,  letting  it  bask  in  the  warm  sunshine, 
as  if  she  were  coaxing  the  child  to  live,  — 
and  Edde,  the  wood-cutter,  came  past  that  spot 
every  day. 

She  had  talked  to  him  there,  in  such  a 
friendly  manner  I  Heavens!  how  could  a  grand 
lady  talk  to  such  a  humble  man  as  he  was  ?  He- 
knew  she  was  of  noble  birth;  her  father  was 
a  minister  too,  but  her  home  was  the  Hague. 
Had  not  Schepers  said  that  the  was  related 
to  a  cabinet  minister?  And  she  talked  to  him 
as  if  she  were  the  daughter  of  His  next  door 
neighbour. 

"What  dp  you  think  of  my  child  to-day?" 
she  would  say.  And  she  lifted  up  the  thin 
shawl  and  allowed  him  to  peep  underneath. 
"Do  you  not  think  it  is  looking  better?  Look 
at  those  rosy  cheeks!" 

And  if  there  had  come  a  voice  from  heaven, 
saying :  "You  must  kneel  down  before  that 
woman,  while  she  shows  you  her  child,"  he 
would  have  knelt  4own.  What  a  woman! 

She  was  not  there  to-day.  But  it  seemed 
to  the  wood-cutter  that  she  must  have  found 
another  part  of  the  wood  to  sit  in. 

Where  might  it  be  ?  Perhaps  on  the  other,  side 
of  the  wood,  where  one  could  see  the  distant 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  125 

towers  of   Southloorn  across  the  wide  moor. 
She  was  still  there,  then.   She  was  in  the 
wood,  only  in  another  part.  How  could  they 
say    she   had    been    buried? 

She  was  also  to  be  found  in  the  church  still. 

Do  you  think  she  did  not  sit  there  any  more  ? 

She  had  always  sat  in  a  side-pew  with  a 
carved  canopy,  and  because  that  pew  was  higher 
than  any  of  the  others  every  one  could  see  her 
sitting.  And  the  people  often  looked  up  that 
way.  Even  the  elders  sometimes  cast  sur- 
reptitious side-glances  in  that  direction.  No 
one  could  help  watching  her. 

The  young  girls  were  not  jealous  of  her 
beauty;  not  one  of  them  denied  that  she  had 
a  prettier  face  than  any  other  girl  in  church. 
It  was  a  curious  thing  that  the  girls  seemed 
to  count  her  as  one  of  themselves,  and  never 
talked  about  her  as  of  a  married  woman. 
Other  married  women  never  laughed  in 
church  in  Eastloorn ;  they  knew  how  to  behave ; 
but  the  minister's  wife  very  often  smiled 
sweetly  at  some  one  of  the  congregation. 

Even  those  who  sat  in  the  back  rows  looked 
at  her  pew;  even  the  naughty  boys  who  had 
to  be  kept  quiet  by  the  bell-ringer,  who  was 
requested  by  the  churchwardens  to  do  this. 


126          THE    MINISTER'S    WIFE 

The  congregation  would  not  have  enjoyed 
the  minister's  most  beautiful  sermon  half  as 
much  had  his  wife  not  been  in  her  accustomed 
seat,  as  in  the  days  when  her  chjld  camei 
into  the  world. 

But  once  again  her  pew  was  empty.  What 
was  the  difference  between  then  and  now? 

When  the  people  collected  together  in  the 
Square  after  church  they  had  to  be  very 
careful  not  to  ask :  "How  is  your  wife  to-day, 
sir?  And  how  is  the  little  one?" 

And  when  the  men  came  home  after  church, 
their  wives,  if  they  had  not  been  able  to  go, 
sometimes  said  without  thinking:  "And  was 
the  minister's  wife  back  again?  Is  she  quite 
better  ?" 

The  verger  always  made  the  same  mistake 
also,  why  otherwise  did  he  invariably  sweep 
out  her  pew  before  the  service  and  remove 
every  particle  of  dust? 

The  people  still  always  looked  at  that  pew. 
It  seemed  to  them  that  the  minister's  wife  was 
in  the  vicarage;  on  one  of  the  following 
Sundays  she  would  surely  appear  in  church 
again,  and  then  the  child  would  be  christened. 

She   was   still  to  be  seen  in  the  village. 
When   the   butcher   came   home,   he   asked 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  127 

his  wife:  "What  has  Mrs.  Senserff  ordered 
to-day  ?" 

When  the  schoolmaster  saw  that  a  child 
was  not  at  school,  and  the  others  told  hikn 
that  the  child  was  ill,  the  absent-minded  man 
would  say:  "I  shall  tell  Mrs.  Senserff  after- 
wards; she  is  sure  to  have  something  for 
the.  child." 

One  day,  when  Jacob,  the  Jew,  who  was 
also  a  butcher,  sat  at  the  window,  looking 
out  on  to  the  street,  he  said  to  Sara:  "I 
have  not  seen  the  minister's  wife  come  past 
yet."  But  he  only  said  that  once:  Jacob  was 
a  wise  man  and  he  never  made  a  foolish 
remark  twice. 

It  seemed  to  all  the  villagers  that  she  had 
only  gone  to  visit  her  father  in  Guelders, 
as  she  had  done  once  before. 

How  could  they  say  then,  that  she  had 
been  buried  ?  > 


And  yet  they  were  quite  sure  that  she  had 
been  buried.  The  whole  village  knew  it  for 
a  certainty;  there  was  no  doubt  about  it. 

It  had  been  in  winter. 

It  had  long  been  expected  that  she  would 
not  live. 


128          THE    MINISTER'S   WIFE 

But  when  the  announcement  was  made  at 
every  house,  even  at  the  farthest  one  on  the 
moor,  —  for  Senserff  had  not  wished  one 
person  to  be  passed  over,  —  then  they  were 
all  startled. 

A  deep  mourning  had  come  over  the 
village,  as  if  each  one  had  had  a  death  in 
his  own  house.  And  if  one  pjerson  had  set 
the  example  and  had  drawn  the  curtains  and 
closed  the  shutters,  —  all  the  people  in  East- 
loom  would  have  done  the  same:  for  it  was 
every  one's  wish  to  do  it.  Schepers  had  said,: 
"It  is  not  my  place  to  set  the  example,  for 
would  ft  not  look  as  if  I  considered  myself 
the  first  in  the  village  ?"  And  when  he  had 
not  dared,  no  one  had  the  courage.  But 
every  one  in  Eastloorn  was  as  sad  as  if  he 
had  been  sitting  behind  closed  shutters  and 
drawn  curtains. 

Also  the  people  would  have  liked  to  go  to 
the  vicarage  to  say  a  comforting  word  to 
their  minister.  But  no  one  had  the  courage. 
Many  a  one  could  have  found  the  right  words, 
which  they  might  have  said;  not  many  people 
living  in  a  town  could  have  improved  upon 
them.  And  yet  they  considered  it  more 
courteous  to  stay  at  home  and  not  to  intrude. 
They  were  as  children  who  see  a  funeral  pass ; 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  129 

they  stop  their  game  in  the  middle  of  the 
street  and  creep  behind  a  hedge,  and  peer 
through  the  branches  to  see  the  pjrocessibn 
coming  by,  while  their  faces  suddenly  become 
grave  and  reverent.  No  one  would  have  dared 
to  go  to  the  minister. 

But  they  had  all  fielt  that  one  or  more  of 
them  must  act  as  their  ambassador,  and, 
•whenever  any  two  met  on  the  street  or 
anywhere  else,  they  were  sure  to  say:  "The 
elders  should  go."  There  was  a  silent  request 
from  the  people  to  the  elders  to  do  it.  But 
each  of  them,  when  at  home,  said  to  his  wife 
and  children:  "Do  you  not  know  then  what  a 
difficult  task  they  want  to  lay  on  our  shoulders  ?" 

The  elders  agreed  that  Schepers  was  the 
one  who  should  go;  and  he  gave  in  at  last. 

"When  he  went  to  do  it,  he  kept  on  his 
workman's  clothes ;  he  had  purposely  not  put  on 
his  best  suit.  "That  was  wise  of  him,"  the 
people  said  afterwards;  "by  doing  that  he 
avoided  the  appearance  of  wanting  to  be 
the  most  important." 

When  he  turned  into  the  road  which  led 
to  the  vicarage,  he  went  past  the  door,  as 
if  he  were  going  further  up  the  village,  and 
when  he  came  back,  he  went  past  again  as 
if  he  bethought  himself  of  a  message.  The 


130          THE    MINISTER'S   WIFE 

verger's  wife  saw  him.  "Quite  right,  Schepers," 
she  thought;  "quite  tight,  Schepers;  I  am 
glad  you  had  not  the  courage  to  go  in  at 
once,  for  he  who  visits  the  house  of  grief 
must  feel  small." 

But  at  last  he  went  in.  In  tlie  room  where 
Senserff  sat  by  the  fire,  deep  in  thought, 
he  remained  standing  at  the  door  for  a 
moment,  cap  in  hand.  At  that  moment  he 
represented  the  respect  of  a  whole  population. 

And  then  h'e  took  courage.  Going  up  to 
the  man  with  whom  he  wanted  to  speak,  he 
said:  "Sir,  no  one  dares  to  come,  and  now 
they  have  sent  me  to  speak  to  you;  also, 
I  think,  I  have  something  to  say!" 

"I  can  tell  you  that  Scfrepers  must  have 
spoken  well  to  the  minister,"  Niesink,  the  bee- 
farmer,  said  to  his  neighbour  later  on. 

"What  did  He  say?"  the  neighbour  asked. 

"Well,"  the  bee-farmer  answered,  "he  began 
to  talk  quite  softly,  mumbling  as  some  one 
does  who  has  lost  his  speech  and  cannot 
articulate.  And  He  looked  at  the  minister  so 
that  the  minister  suddenly  felt  that  he  represen- 
ted the  grief  of  an  entire  parish  and  burst 
into  tears.  And  then  the  moment  came. 
Schepers  put  out  the  other  hand',  which  was 
free,  and  took  hold  of  the  minister  and  said: 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  131 

"Sit  down  here,  on  this  chair,"  as  if  he  were 
the  host  in  that  house  and  the  minister  his 
guest.  And  he  spoke  to  the  minister  as  a 
father  does  to  his  child." 

"But,  Niesink,  what  did  he  say?  I  suppose 
he  quoted  mighty  words  from  the  Scriptures." 

"No,  my  man;  the  comforters  who  begin 
to  quote  from  the  Scriptures  at  once  are  men 
who  find  nothing  to  say  from  their  heart, 
because  they  have  no  real  feeling,  and  that 
is  why  they  must  borrow  words  from  the  Holy 
Scriptures.  They  must  make  up  for  their  want 
of  feeling  by  quoting  from  the  Bible.  Do  you 
know  what  Schepers  did?  When  they  were 
sitting,  he  began  to  talk  about  the  minister's 
wife,  without  mentioning  her  death.  He  went 
on  telling  him  things  that  he  had  come 
through  with  her  and  things  that  the  people 
in  the  parish  had  known  of  her;  all  beautiful 
things.  Some  of  the  stories  the  minister  knew, 
of  course;  but  Schepers  did  not  mind  that; 
and  some  of  the  stories  the  minister  did  not 
know;  they  were  new  to  him.  The  minister 
was  surprised  that  his  wife  had  done  noble 
deeds  that  He  did  not  even  know  of.  Schepers 
did  nothing  else,  only  went  on  telling  his 
stories.  'Do  you  think  I  am  a  man  great 
enough  to  place  myself  above  the  minister 


132          THE    MINISTER'S   WIFE 

and  to  say:  "I  shall  comfort  you?"  he  said 
to  me  afterwards.  And  the  afflicted  man  sat 
listening  to  one  story  after  another;  they  were 
all  beautiful,  for  everything  that  Mrs.  Senserff 
did  for  the  people  was  noble.  He  listened 
to  Schepers  as  if  h"e  were  telling  him  beautiful 
stories  from  a  book,  and  that  book  was  his 
book.  At  last  the  evening  fell  and  they  sat 
there  until  it  was  quite  dark  in  the  room;  the 
two  men  had  not  noticed  it.  When  the  maid 
came  in  with  a  light  Schepers  said:  'No,  no, 
girl,  not  yet;  I  will  tell  you  when  you  can 
bring  it,'  just  as  if  he  were  master  in  the 
house.  And  th'en,  man,  in  the  dark  he  prayed 
with  his  minister,  on  his  knees.  He  did  not 
say  that  lie  did  it;  but  the  maid  heard  it; 
and  since  tKat  day  the  maid  does  not  dare 
to  look  at  Schepers  when  she  sees  him 
coming.  But  it  was  grand,  manf  I  can  tell 
you  that.  And  a  great  peace  came  over  the 
minister,  a  great  peace;  and  the  whole  parish 
saw  it  in  the  cemetery;  you  know  that  as 
well  as  I  do." 

The  strange  part  of  it  was,  that  ever  since 
that  day  Schepers  was  more  humble  than  ever 
with  the  minister.  He  was  as  one  who  has 
braced  himself  up  to  do  a  thing  that  he  ought 
not  to  have  done  to  one  who  was  greater 


[DYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  133 

than  he;  as  one  who  has  done  wrong  and 
would  never  iget  over  the  fact.  Such  was  the 
elder's  behaviour  in  the  parish  from  that  day. 
Yes,  it  was  quite  true ;  the  minister's  wife 
had  been  buried.  How  could  any  one  doubt 
it!  And  how  could  they  say  then  that  she 
was  still  there,  always  there? 

The  second  one  who  had  come  to  Senserff, 
after  Schepers,  was  the  minister  of  the 
Reformed  Church,  Walter. 

Many  eyes  had  peeped  from  behind  the 
curtains  when  the  people  in  the  village  street 
had  seen  Him  go. 

There  had  been  much  conversation  on  this 
subject  the  day  before.  "I  am  sure  your 
minister  will  no?  go,"  the  verger  of  Senserff's 
church  said  to  the  old  widow  of  the  baker 
of  the  Reformed  Church:  "the  strife  between 
the  two  Churches  fs  in  the  way." 

"And  I  tell  you  that  he  will  go,"  she  ans- 
wered. "You  do  not  know  our  minister;  you 
do  not  know  what  is  in  his  heart;  it  is  warmer 
than  many  a  heart  that  I  know." 

And  the  same  discussion  took  place  between 
all  the  people  who  spoke  to  each  other. 

And  when  Walter  came  out  of  his  house  and 
pulled  his  front  door  to  and  went  up  the  street 


134          THE    MINISTER'S   WIFE 

towards  the  other  vicarage,  many  inquisitive 
faces  appeared  at  the  windows  behind  the 
curtains;  the  minister  felt  it. 

And  as  soon  as  he  was  standing  on  Senserff 's 
doorstep  all  the  faces  disappeared  from  the 
windows;  every  one  had  gone  out  by  the  back 
door  to  tell  each  other  what  every  one  knew, 
that  Walter  had  gone  to  Senserff;  the  minister 
felt  it. 

No  one  ever  heard  what  took  place  between 
these  two.  Walter  did  not  tell  any  one,  and 
neither  did  Senserff. 

But  every  one  noticed  that  after  that  day 
Senserff  would  never  allow  any  man  to  talk 
evil  of  Walter.  In  former  days  Senserff  himself 
had  often  called  him  Synodus  by  way  of  a  joke, 
but  that  name  never  again  passed  his  lips. 

After  that,  it  was  often  seen  that  when  the 
two  ministers  met  each  other  in  the  village 
or  outside  in  the  fields,  they  walked  part  of 
the  way  thogether,  and  once  they  had  been 
seen  sitting  for  an  hour  in  the  shade  of  the 
big  oak  tree  by  the  side  of  the  stream. 

"I  wonder  if  the  Dissenters  are  at  last  be- 
ginning to  know  the  heart  of  our  minister?" 
the  old  widow  of  the  baker  said  to  herself. 

And  also  it  was  seen  that  after  that  many 
a  Dissenter  took  off  his  cap  to  Walter. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  135 

So  she  had  been  buried.  No  one  could  doubt 
it.  How  could  they  say  then  that  she  was  still 
there,  always  there  ? 

And  there  was  yet  another  proof. 

On  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  on  the  south 
side,  was  a  wood,  a  pine  wood.  And  there  was 
the  new  churchyard  of  the  Dissenting 
community. 

When  the  separation  between  the  two 
Churches  had  become  a  fact,  the  Dissenters 
had  thought  it  necessary  to  have  their  own 
bury  ing-ground. 

It  was  not  necessary,  of  course  not.  They 
could  bury  their  dead  in  the  general  cemetery 
quite  as  well. 

But  Senserff  had  objections  to  that  burying 
ground.  He  had  permitted  his  men  to  found 
a  new  one.  It  seemed  so  cold,  the  other;  a 
great  open  space,  and  in  the  middle  of  it  the 
graves;  there  was  not  a  tree  on  it,  and  not  a 
tree  anywhere  near;  nothing  but  fields,  where 
the  cattle  grazed,  on  all  four  sides.  Everything 
in  and  about  the  village  was  full  of  poetry; 
only  the  dead  had  to  do  without  poetry! 

Senserff  was  also  annoyed  about  the 
difference  in  rank  in  that  churchyard.  It  was 
separated  into  three  divisions,  one  part  for 


136          THE    MINISTER'S    WIFE 

the  poor,  those  who  had  been  kept  by  the 
parish  during  their  life-time;  another  part  for 
the  very  rich";  and  a  part  for  those  who  did 
not  belong  to  either  of  those  two  classes.  It 
all  depended  upon  how  much  the  relations 
could  afford  to  pay.  This  was  a  great  advantage 
to  the  village-treasury.  It  annoyed  him;  must 
the  people  even  in  their  graves  be  divided  by 
what  is  called  money? 

And  so  in  those  days  he  had  induced  his 
Churchwardens  to  give  the  Dissenters  a 
bury  ing-ground  of  their  own. 

They  had  cut  down  many  trees  in  the  wood 
on  the  Southside,  and  they  had  built  a  wall 
round  that  open  space.  And  there,  surrounded 
by  the  eternal  pine  trees,  sheltered  from  the 
North  wind,  the  'dead  of  his  parish  might 
rest.  And  any  one  looking  at  the  wood,  would 
not  have  imagined  that  there  was  a  churchyard 
there. 

The  stipulation  had  been  made  that  all  the 
graves  should  be  equal  and  free  of  cost;  the 
parish  had  undertaken  to  bear  the  cost  of 
the  laying  out  and  maintenance. 

Since  then  two  children  had  been  buried 
there.  The  minister's  wife  was  the  third.  There 
where  a  thick,  hundred  year  old  pine  bent 
its  heavy  branches  over  the  wall,  and  where 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  137 

winter  and  summer  the  pine  needles  sighed, 
there  she  was  put  to  rest,  A  stone  cross  with 
her  name,  and  nothing  else. 

The  whole  parish  had  been  present;  it  will 
be  spoken  of  years  hence.  Men  from  Gueldres, 
and  great  men  from  the  Hague  had  been 
present,  but  all  had  been  very  simple.  TKere 
had  not  even  been  a  burial-repast  in  the 
vicarage. 

So  she  had  been  buried.  But  how  could  they 
say  then  that  she  was  still  there,  always  there  ? 

No  one  had  ever  known  such  a  strange 
thing-  before.  She  was  hot  there  and  she 
was  there;  only  the  one  feeling  was  sometimes 
stronger  than  the  other;  that  depended  on 
circumstances.  But  when  sometimes  the  sen- 
sation that  she  was  gone  was  very  real,  a  great 
sadness  came  over  the  parish,  as  if  the  loss 
could  not  be  repaired  even  by  the  presence 
of  both  ministers. 

There  were  some  who  thought  that  this  grief 
would  pass  away  some  day,  if  in  time  a  new 
minister's  wife  should  come  to  the  parish. 

But  those  wKo  knew  Senserff,  as  Schepers 
knew  him,  said  that  if  this  were  the  only  means 
to  lighten  the  people's  grief  no  one  should 
count  on  it,  Senserff  was  not  the  man  who 


138  THE    MINISTER'S    WIFE 

was  likely  to  marry  a  second  time.  For  it 
was  with  him  as  it  was  with  the  whole  parish; 
his  wife  was  always  there  still,  always  there, 
although  she  had  been  buried! 

And  one  of  tEose  who  grieved  most  was 
Wiegen,  the  Dreamier.  The  one  thought  which 
wap  always  in  his  mind  was  this:  "I  have  lost 
the  best  member  of  my  invisible  Church!" 


THE  GREAT  DROUGHT 

The  inhabitants  of  Eastloorn  will  never  cease 
talking  about  the  great  drought  which  prevailed 
two  years  after  the  Dissension  broke  out. 

The  drought  started  quite  early  in  spring. 

In  the  beginning  no  one  took  any  notice 
of  it,  for  who  could  possibly  know  that  it 
would  be  a  far  worse  drought  than  the  oldest 
people  in  the  village  could  remember? 

True,  in  the  month  of  March  the  farmers 
were  astonished  to  find  the  roads  outside  the 
village  were  much  better  than  they  usually 
were  at  that  time  of  the  year.  Also,  they  had 
thought  it  curious  that  the  winter  had  passed 
without  any  snow  or  rain.  But  who  could  know 
that  this  was  trie  sign  of  the  great  drought 
which  was  to  come? 

When  they  began  to  think  of  ploughing, 
and  fetched  th'e  plough  out  of  the  barn,  they 
noticed  that  tne  blade  did  not  look  at  all  rusty, 


140          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

and  was  almost  as  shining  as  when  they 
ploughed  the  land  last.  Neither  was  there  any 
mould  on  the  leather  of  the  harness;  it  did 
not  even  require  to  be  wiped. 

And  another  thing,  which  rarely  occurs  in 
spring,  was  that  in  ploughing  the  dust  flew 
up  in  all  directions,  so  that  it  made  the  horses 
cough.  The  ploughman  came  home  black  with 
dust;  it  made  the  village  girls  laugh  to  see  his 
face,  to  which  dust  and  perspiration  had  given 
this  colour.  Had  they  known  about  the  great 
drought  they  would  not  have  laughed  I 

Another  strange  thing  was  that  no  birds 
followed  the  plough.  Other  years  the  gulls, 
the  white  gulls,  swarmed  about  the  man  and 
his  horses;  and  they  snapped  up  the  worms 
and  the  larvae  which  were  thrown  up  by  the 
blade  in  the  furrows.  They  fought  for  them, 
shrieking  and  flapping  with  their  wings;  they 
forgot  to  be  frightened,  and  in  their  hunger 
came  down  quite  close  to  the  ploughman's  feet, 
so  that  he  could  have  caught  them  in  his  hand 
But  where  were  the  gulls  this  year  ?  They  were 
not  to  be  found  on  a  single  field.  Did  the  gulls 
know  about  the  drought  already,  and  was  that 
why  they  flew  to  other  fields,  far  away  by 
the  sea? 

The    farmers    had    not   seen   them   on   the 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  141 

meadows,  either;  and  that  was  strange,  too. 
The  river  which  intersected  the  meadows  was 
so  low  in  February  tKat  the  usual  flood  had 
not  taken  place  this  year.  The  meadows  had 
not  derived  any  advantage  from  it.  The  owners 
of  the  land  were  disappointed  at  this,  as  they 
were  at  a  loss  to  know  how  the  grass  would 
be  fit  for  mowing,  when  it  lacked  the  beneficial 
effect  produced  by  the  annual  flood.  The  ice 
had  disappeared  this  year  without  drifting. 
First  it  had  given  way  in  the  middle  with 
great  rents,  and  then  had  melted  entirely. 
One  fine  morning  there  was  not  a  trace  of 
it  left  as  far  as  the  eye  could'  reach  down  the 
river. 

The  Polder  Committee  had  not  found  it 
necessary  to  repair  the  dykes. 

The  miller,  whose  duty  it  was  to  clear  the 
meadows  of  the  remaining  water,  h'ad  found 
that  his  services  were  not  required  this  year. 
His  mill  had  not  been  in  motion  for  a  wKole 
month,  and  the  villagers  had  seen  him  peram- 
bulating the  village  daily,  with  his  hands  in 
his  pockets,  talking  to  any  one  who  had  the 
patience  to  listen  to  him. 

Over  the  whole  expanse  of  the  meadows  not 
a  bird  was  to  be  seen.  Such  a  thing  had  never 
been  known  to  happen.  The  plover  had  not 


142          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

put  in  an  appearance,  and  the  village  boys  did 
not  go  out  on  Sundays  in  search  of  eggs, 
as  they  had  done  in  former  years. 

"The  cattle,"  the  farmers  said  subsequently, 
"knew  what  was  about  to  take  place  before 
we  men  did."  Their  belief  in  the  understanding 
of  animals  was  not  a  little  increased  by  their 
indication  of  restlessness. 

And  so  the  drought  had  begun,  quite  early 
in  spring. 

When  April  came,  the  first  flowers  in  the 
little  village  gardens  were  long  in  coming  out. 
Why  were  the  flowers  so  slow?  Did  they  also 
know  that  the  drought  was  coming? 

As  a  rule,  the  crocusses  in  the  notary's  garden 
attracted  a  crowd  of  admiring  farmers'  wives 
on  Sundays  after  church,  but  this  year  they 
were  quite  small  and  sHrivelled  up,  so  that 
the  women  only  lingered  for  a  moment  at 
the  gate,  wondering  why  the  notary  had  given 
up  his  hobby.  For  many  years  his  crocusses 
had  been  larger  than  those  in  any  other  garden 
in  the  village.  Perhaps  it  was  because  his 
wife  had  died  that  winter,  and  that  he  had 
lost  his  interest  in  flowers.  How  could  the 
farmers'  wives  know  about  the  drought  which 
was  coming? 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  143 

The  snowdrops  had  not  flowered  at  all. 

The  wild  anemones  in  the  wood  had  not 
flowered  either,  and  the  children  had  not  been 
able  to  gather  large  bunches  of  them,  as  they 
walked  to  school  through  the  wood  coming 
from  the  distant  farms.  They  usually  gave 
the  flowers  to  the  people  of  the  house  where 
they  ate  their  midday  meal.  There  were  no 
new  shoots  on  the  wild  rose-trees,  and  the 
mayor's  gardener,  who  made  a  great  study 
of  grafting,  knew  that  it  would  not  be  possible 
this  year.  But  the  gardener  did  not  know 
that  this  was  a  sign  of  the  coming  drought. 
WHo  could  suppose  that  the  wild  rosetree  would 
know  such  things  before  the  gardener,  and 
was  more  sensible  than  he,  and  did  not  risk 
its  new  shoots,  knowing  only  too  well  that  they 
would  surely  die  before  the  end  of  summer? 

The  tall  ferns,  growing  on  the  banks  of 
the  ditches,  did  not  awaken  from  their  winter 
sleep.  Last  year's  brown  and  crumpled  leaves 
were  not  replaced  by  any  new  and  fresh  ones. 
Why  di'd  the  new  ferns  not  unfold  their  leaves  ? 

The  ferns  which  grew  up  against  the  old 
trees  and  in  the  hollow  of  the  willow  did  not 
do  well  either. 

Only  the  thistle  was  not  influenced  by  any 
bad  omens.  It  spread  out  its  prickly  leaves 


144          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

on  all  the  fields.  Thistles  grew  on  the  meadows 
as  if  the  farmers  had  forgotten  to  weed  them 
the  year  before.  TKe  dyke  was  covered  with 
them  from  top  to  bottom.  The  servants  and 
children  were  sent  to  the  fields  and  meadows 
in  great  numbers,  but  it  was  of  no  avail;  they 
pulled  them  out  with  long  wooden  pincers 
and  laid  them  in  great  heaps  in  a  corner  of 
the  field  and  burned  them,  but  it  was  no 
good.  The  number  of  thistles  remaining  was 
always  greater  than  those  that  had  been  taken 
away.  All  the  thistle  seed  of  former  years 
seemed  to  have  waited  for  this  summer  to 
come  up. 

And  the  animals  and  plants  knew,  but  the 
people  dfd  not,  tha,t  this  was  to  be  the  year 
of  the  great  drought. 

Only  when  May  came,  —  then  one  or  two 
people  thought  such  a  thing  might  be  possible. 

One  of  these  was  Sander,  the  deacon,  whose 
fields  lay  very  high",  at  the  side  of  the  village, 
where  the  woods  covered  the  slopes  of  the  hills. 

His  winter  corn  was  only  a  few  inchesl  above 
the  ground,  and  the  corn  told  him,  wfhen  he 
was  walking  past  early  one  morning:  "I  am 
not  going  to  grow  any  more  this  year.  WKy 
should  I  ?  Everything  is  going  to  die  in  any 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  14$ 

case.  If  you  reason  at  all,  you  will  see  that 
I  am  right.  What  would  be  the  good  of  allowing; 
the  ears  to  shoot  up;  they  would  only  shrivel 
without  having  any  com.  Do  you  imagine  it 
is  pleasant  to  do  work  for  nothing?" 

And  the  farmer  had  scratched  his  head 
thoughtfully,  and  looked  at  the  corn. 

"Certainly,"  it  went  on,  "just  look;  it  is 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  can  you 
find  a  drop  of  dew  on  any  of  my  stalks  ?  I  am 
not  even  talking  about  rain;  I  mean  dew. 
Other  years  we  were  wet  with  dew  all  night 
long;  it  came  from  the  river  over  there;  it 
enveloped  the  village  and  ascended  higher  and 
higher  until  it  reached  these  fields;  and  then 
we  would  say  to  each  other:  It  is  coming,  it 
is  coming!*  and  we  swayed  to  and  fro,  so 
that  even  the  smallest  blades  were  covered 
with  white  dew.  Then  it  went  higher  up  to  the 
pines ;  so  that  the  pine-needles  were  quite  heavy 
with  dew,  a  drop  on  every  needle.  And  when 
the  hares  came  we  laughed,  because  we  made 
them  wet,  so  that  they  could  only  get  dry 
in  the  afternoon,  when  they  went  to  lie  in 
the  sand  on  the  hill,  in  the  sun.  Have  you 
never  seen  the  hares  there?  That  was  our 
fault,  we  made  them  so  wet!" 

And    the    farmer    stood   still   and   listened 


146          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

intently ;  he  forget  to  walk  on ;  His  feet  seemed 
nailed  to  the  ground. 

"But  tell  me,"  the  low  corn  continued, 
"tell  me,  what  is  the  matter  with  the  river? 
Why  does  it  not  send  up  any  mist  in  the 
evenings?  Why  does  the  dew  not  come?  We 
are  small  and  cannot  see  across  the  village; 
but  is  there  any  dew  on  the  lowlands?  Is 
the  corn  any  higher  there?  Are  the  young 
stalks  there  also  yellow  before  their  time,  as 
we  are?" 

And  the  farmer  answered. 

He  did  not  know  that  he  was  answering 
and  talking  with  his  fields. 

He  told  them  that  it  was  not  much  better 
there,  and  that  the  dew  did  not  come  there 
either.  He  talked  aloud  as ;  some  one  doeS 
who  tells  a  sad  story  to  others  who  do  not 
know  it  yet;  arid  he  talked  for  a  long  time. 
He  did  it  without  thinking,  so  that  Bins,  the 
labourer,  coming  down  the  road,  called  out 
to  him  and  asked  Him  to  whom  he  was  talking. 
Bins  always  laughed  when  no  one  else  did, 
and  few  people  liked  him. 

And  the  farmer  felt  ashamed  that  any  one 
had  heard  him  talking  with  his  corn  as  if 
he  were  talking  with  a  friend;  and  that  any 
one  ha,d  seen  him  standing  there,  as  he  had 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  147 

done   for  a   considerable  time,   with   his  feet 
nailed  to  the  ground. 

And  there  were  others  too,  who  began  to 
understand  it. 

Iken  was  one  ot  them;  his  buckwheat  fields 
were  situated  to  the  East  of  the  village,  on 
the  moorland. 

He  had  waited  until  there  were  no  more 
night  frosts,  for  it  was  not  advisable  to  sow 
the  buckwheat  before  those  were  over;  one 
night  frost  might  be  sufficient  to  destroy 
all.  And  when  that  danger  was  past  he  had 
said  to  this  son,  Kassens,  "We  must  set 
fire  to  the  heath,  my  boy.  It  is  time  for  the 
buckwheat." 

And  then  he  and  the  other  farmers  who 
cultivated  buckwheat  had  commenced  burning 
the  heath,  anoTthe  east  wiihd  Jiad  carried  clouds 
of  smoke  to  the  village,  and  it  lasted'  for  days, 
so  that  the  air  in  the  streets  and  the  houses 
was  stifling.  But  no  one  in  Eastloorn  thought 
of  grumbling  about  the  smoke;  it  was  an 
annual  event  in  the  village.  They  had  heard 
it  said  that  the  people  far  away  in  Holland, 
—  for  the  smoke  reached  even  there,  — 
disliked  it  very  much,  but  they  could  not 
understand  that.  There  was  a  shadow  over 


148          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

all  the  land,  and  the  sun  shone  through 
masses  of  grey  clouds. 

And  after  the  burning  of  the  peat-moor, 
when  the  soil  had  cooled  down,  Iken  had 
started  sowing  his  buckwheat.  It  was  all  as 
in  former  years. 

"Now  for  some  rain,  my  boy !"  he  had'  said 
to  Kassens;  "if  only  the  rain  comes  if  will  be 
all  rfght." 

But  the  rain  did  not  come. 

One  week  passed,  two  weeks,  three  weeks; 
aot  a  sign  of  rain. 

There  was  no  change  in  the  field. 

And  sometimes  when  he  was  walking  there 
with  his  son  Kassens,  he  would  stoop  and 
pick  up  a  handful  of  earth  and  let  the  sand 
run  through  his  fingers,  so  that  he  could 
examine  the  buckwheat  seed  by  pinching  a 
few  grains  between  his  nails. 

"The  seed  is  burned,  father,"  Kassens  said; 
"it  has  had  too  much  sun." 

The  man  did  not  answer,  but  he  T^egan  to 
understand  that  which  the  plants  and  animals 
had  understood  long  ago;  he  looked  towards 
the  West  and  to  the  South,  and  gazed  at 
the  horizon  with  piercing  eyes,  as  if  he  would 
have  liked  to  command  the  clouds  to  appear 
above  the  horizon;  but  there  were  no  clouds. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  149 

And  there  were  others  who  began  to 
understand. 

The  farmer's  wife  understood,  when  she 
found  that  there  was  less  milk  to  churn1  every 
morning.  When  the  milkmaid  came  back  from 
the  meadows  she  noticed  that  there  was  always 
less  milk  in  the  pails  than  the  day  before. 
A  little  later  only  one  pail  was  required,  and 
the  time  came  that  even  the  one  pail  was 
only  half  filled.  The  farmer's  wife  wondered 
.whether  it  was  worth  while  to  churn  at  all? 

The  butcher,  the  village  Jew,  also  under- 
stood it.  For  the  farmers  offered  him  all 
their  calves,  all  of  them.  He  bought  far  more 
than  he  required,  and  even  more  than  he 
could  sell  to  other  butchers  in  town  who  bought 
the  calves  from  him. 

"There  is  no  grass,  not  even  enough  for 
the  cattle,"  he  said  to  his  wife,  "and  now 
they  are  having  to  sell  all  their  calves.  They 
will  be  poor,  Sarah.  You  must  be  thrifty  too; 
be  thrifty,  Sarah  I" 

"But  why  should  we  be  thrifty,  now  that 
you  are  earning  so  much  money  on  account 
of  the  cheap  cattle?"  she  enquired. 

"Sarah,  be  thrifty,"  he  answered,  without 
explanation;  "you  will  see  when  winter  comes 
why  we  shall  want  that  money." 


1 50          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

The  notary  also  understood  It  when  the 
farmers  came  again  and  again,  asking  him 
for  a  loan.  Tfiis  occurred  far  oftener  than 
in  former  years. 

"That  is  because  they  are  not  doing  any 
business  on  the  market;  I  heard  that  at 
Steenwijk  last  week  there  were  only  three 
farmers,  and  that  the  market-place  was  as 
empty  as  on  any  ordinary  day;"  he  thought. 

"I  must  consider,"  his  thoughts  ran  on, 
"whether  I  can  go  on  giving  them  these 
advances.  It  will  be  much  worse  before  we 
are  done,  and  how  can  I  be  certain  that  I 
shall  get  my  money  back?"  It  seemed  hard 
when,  in  talking  to  the  men,  he  hinted  at 
higher  interest;  but  he  never  refused  them 
a  loan. 

The  postmaster  also  began  to  understand, 
for  there  were  very  few  who  added  to  their 
deposit  in  the  postoffice  savings-bank,  and 
there  were  many  who  took  away  their  savings. 
He  had  calculated  exactly  how  much  the 
small  farmers  had  saved  during  the  past  year, 
and  the  calculation  had  made  him  quite 
cheerful.  But  he  could  also  calculate  now 
exactly  how  much  the  small  farmers  had  taken 
away  this  year,  and  the  knowledge  gave  him 
a  sad  peep  into  the  future. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  151 

Every  one  began  to  understand  it;  their 
eyes  were  opened. 

At  first  they  were  very  cautious  in  talking" 
about  it;  very  careful,  as  people  are  who  have 
a  presentiment  but  hope  that  they  are  mistaken ; 
as  people  who  do  not  consider  it  well-bred  to 
complain  just  in  the  beginning,  for  it  was 
only  June  yet.  They  were  very  cautious,  as  if 
they  thought;  "I  myself  feel  uneasy  about 
the  rain  not  coming,  but  what  is  the  good 
of  frightening  another  person  who  is  not 
alarmed  yet?" 

In  the  beginning  they  only  hinted.  Some 
one  would  say:  "Do  you  remember,  Vossens, 
how  high  the  winter  corn  was  last  year  at 
this  time?"  Or,  "What  a  mist  there  always 
was  in  February,  and  what  a  lot  of  dew  on 
the  river  in  May."  Or,  "I  thought  the  wind 
was  changing  to  the  West  yesterday."  But 
no  more. 

No   one   complained. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  the  villagers 
actually  put  their  thoughts  into  words.  A 
long  time. 

It  was  the  minister,  Walter,  who  was  the 
first  to  say  it  straight  out,  on  a  Sunday  after 
the  sermon.  The  minister  had  not  been  bora 
and  bred  in  Eastlbprn  either;  he  came  from 


152          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

Gueldres.  "Is  the  rain  coming  Boon,  do  you 
think?"  he  had  said  bluntly  to  his  churchwar- 
dens; and  it  had  frightened  them.  "This 
drought  has  lasted  for  three  months  now;  what 
.will  happen?"  The  churchwardens  were  still 
more  alarmed. 

But  the  ice  had  been  broken. 

All  the  people  in  the  village  began  to  talk 
about  it  now,  for  what  is  the  good  of  hiding 
one's  thoughts  when  every  one  else  is  thinking 
the  same? 

Only  now  did  it  come  out  how  much  cause 
for  anxiety  there  was.  It  was  much  worse  than 
any  one  had  imagined. 

"It  is  the  middle  of  July  now,"  Schepers 
said  one  evening  on  the  Square.  "It  can  all 
come  right  yet;  but  the  heath  is  so  dry  that 
the  sheep  canno;t  find  a  morsel  to  eat.  I 
am  having  them  taken  to  the  marsh;  there  is 
some  green  food  there,  but  very  little  to  drink. 
You  know  that  in  former  years  I  could  scarcely 
reach  the  bottom  of  the  water  with  my  long 
staff,  but  now  the  sheep  walk  right  through 
the  marsh!  I  have  looked  after  the  sheep 
for  fifty  years,  but  I  have  never  known  such 
a  thing  before!" 

And  so  every  one  had  his  own  tale  to  tell. 

Niesink,  the  bee-farmer,  related  how  he  had 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  153 

gone  to  see  his  servant  was  attending  to.  the 
beehives.  Of  the  five  hundred  hives,  there  was 
not  one  with  fresh  honey.  The  bees  could  not 
find  any  flowers ;  there  were  none  on  the  linden 
trees  when  it  was  time  for  them  to  flower; 
and  the  heath  was  quite  black,  and  would 
not  be  purple  and  red  that  year, 

And  other  farmers  said  that  their  grass  was 
burnt  even  down  by  the  river;  there  was  not 
much  hay  left  from  the  year  before;  what 
were  they  to  do  when  that  was  finished  too? 
They  were  feeding  the  animals  with  it  in  the 
mean  time. 

The  fisherman,  who  fished  where  the  river 
was  wide,  said  that  he  had  not  caught  a  roach 
or  a  perch  for  three  months;  eels  had  been 
the  last  fish  he  had  caught.  He  did  not  even 
go  to  the  mayor's  wife  any  more  to  tell  her; 
for  she  knew  quite  well  that  there  was  no 
more  fish  to  be  had. 

Heister,  the  bridge  man,  related  that  the 
boys  went  under  the  bridge  instead  of  walking 
over  it.  Every  one  knew  that  the  water  was 
ten  feet  deep  in  winter,  and  in  summer,  at 
this  time,  five  feet.  A  scow  loaded  with  turf 
could  pass  easily  winter  and  summer;  but  now 
the  boys  ran  about  fn  the  almost  dry  bed, 
looking  for  round  stones  for  their  slings.  He 


154          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

had  asked  the  mayor  for  permission  to  stay 
at  home.  What  was  the  good  of  standing 
there  all  day  at  the  bridge  for  nothing;  every 
one  laughed  at  him.  But  the  mayor  had  asked 
him  if  he  knew  for  certain  that  he  would  not 
be  wanted  on  the  next  day? 

There  was  a  sense  of  relief  in  the  village 
when,  by  general  tacit  consent,  every  one 
might  talk  about  it. 

That  sense  of  relief  lasted  for  a  few  days. 

But  how  could  it  go  on?  Everything  that 
could  be  said  had  been  said. 

There  were  few  people  in  the  Square  in 
the  evenings. 

And  then  another  thing  came  to  disturb 
the  minds  of  the  people:  it  was  fear. 

Fear. 

It  had  come  at  last. 

Hope  had  always  up  to  now  kept  him  at 
bay;  but  now  Hope  had  gone,  and  Fear  had 
come  instead. 

He  had  come  from  the  East,  across  the 
distant  pine  trees;  nearer  and  nearer,  over 
the  moor  and  over  the  fields,  and  across  the 
bridge:  across  the  street,  until  he  reached 
the  Square 

If  only  he  had  had  a  shape,  even  a  phantom 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  155 

shape,  it  would  have  been  less  awful.  But  he 
had  no  shape. 

Fear  sat  in  the  air  above  the  heads  of 
the  people  as  a  great,  invisible  bird  of  prey, 
who  flapped  his  wings,  peering  down,  and 
pointing  his  sharp  beak  at  the  village;  but 
if  the  people  looked  up,  they  could  not  see 
the  bird.  And  if  they  looked  down  again  they 
had  a  feeling  as  if  the  bird  were  hovering 
above  them  still. 

And  in  the  evening  Fear  sat  beside  the  pump 
in  the  middle  of  the  Square. 

Hitherto  the  women  used  to  like  coming 
out  there  in  the  evening  and  in  the  afternoon; 
they  talked  and  were  never  in  a  hurry;  but 
now  they  were  afraid,  afraid  to  come  near 
the  pump;  he  was  there!  One  day,  Jane,  who 
was  in  the  service  of  Wendel,  the  man  who  had 
the  deepest  well  in  all  the  village,  had  been 
forced  to  let  the  pafl  down  on  the  iron  chain 
as  far  as  it  would  go,  and,  after  she  had 
counted  thirty,  she  had  pulled  the  pail  up, 
but  there  was  no  water  in  it.  The  women  did 
not  dare  to  come  near  the  pump ;  he  was  there, 
the  invisible  one.  No  one  had  seen  him,  and 
no  one  could  say  what  he  looked  like,  or  what 
clothes  he  was  wearing;  but  he  was  there; 
and  there  were  no  women  and  no  children 


156          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

to  be  found  in  the  Square  in  the  evenings. 
A  pail  was  lying  on  the  ground;  who  had 
left  it  there? 

Fear  looked  into  the  houses,  through  the 
windows,  in  the  middle  of  the  day;  who  dared 
to  peep  through  the  curtains  and  cast  h'S 
eyes  over  the  street? 

He  went  round  by  the  back  way,  though 
the  stable  door,  and  sat  crouching  under  the 
manger;  but  no  servant  could  tell  what  shape 
he  had. 

He  sat  in  the  room  by  the  fire;  who  had 
placed  a  chafr  for  Him?  The  women  scarcely 
dared  to  rake  up  the  ashes  on  the  hearth  or 
to  hang  up  the  kettle. 

He  walked  along  the  road  beside  the  people, 
so  that  they  were  afraid  to  carry  on  a  con- 
versation; he  listened  to  everything. 

He  walked  to  church  with  the  people,  went 
inside,  had  his  own  seat,  so  that  they  dared  not 
look  up  for  fear  they  should  catch  sight  of  him. 

He  wandered  about  the  meadows  and  in 
the  fields,  so  that  the  fanners  were  afraid 
to  go  and  see  them;  he  sat  in  the  coppice, 
so  that  the  wood-cutter  turned  aside  where 
he  had  never  known  fear  before.  He  thought 
it  would  be  tne  death  of  him,  if  he  should 
see  the  phantom  shape. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  157 

He  was  by  the  river,  in  the  buckwheat  fields 
and  in  the  pine- woods.  Fear  was  everywhere. 

And  thfs  invisible  being  made  the  people 
silent,  so  that  they  went  about  with  bent  heads, 
almost  shunning  each  other.  And  if  they 
happened  to  look  at  each  other,  they  were 
still  more  alarmed,  for  they  saw  Fear  in  each 
other's  eyes.  There  was  Fear  fn  every  one's 
eyes. 

There  was  also  the  dread  of  fire. 

The  east  wind  and  the  sun  had  made  the 
roofs  of  the  houses  so  dry  that  the  moss  and 
the  moly  had  withered;  such  a  thing  had 
never  been  seen  before. 

The  straw  on  the  roofs  was  so  brittle  that 
it  broke  at  the  slightest  touch. 

The  smallest  act  of  imprudence  might  be 
the  cause  of  fire,  and  if  one  house  should 
catch  fire  there  was  little  chance  of  the  other* 
being  saved.  There  would  be  no  question  of 
extinguishing  the  fire  if  it  broke  out,  for  there 
was  no  water,  and  there  would  not  be  much  left 
of  the  village.  The  mayor  had  given  orders 
for  the  people  to  have  iron  hooks  in  readiness, 
so  that,  if  a  house  should  catch  fire,  it  could 
at  least  be  pulled  down  before  the  house  next 
door  was  in  flames. 


158          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

There  had  been  a  small  fire  in  the  land- 
owner's pinewoods;  no  one  ever  heard  how 
it  came  about:  but  it  was  touch  and  go  that 
the  whole  wood  was  not  burned  down. 

The  dread  of  fire  made  the  farmer  run 
after  his  wife  when  she  went  to  the  outhouse 
for  sticks  for  the  hearth,  and  made  him  follow 
her  when  she  went  back  to  the  room  to  lay 
the  fire  for  cooking  the  dinner. 

The  dread  of  fire  made  the  farmer  furious 
when  he  saw  one  of  his  servants  walking  about 
the  farm  with  a  burning  pipe  in  his  mouth; 
it  was  as  much  as  his  place  was  worth. 

There  was  also  the  dread  of  poverty. 

It  was  only  July,  but  the  fear  of  poverty, 
which  usually  only  came  towards  winter,  was 
there  already. 

When  the  deacons  met  they  saw  quite  clearly 
how  matters  would  stand  in  winter,  and  so 
they  took  steps  to  economise  as  much  as 
possible.  But  how  could  they  economise  when 
already  there  was  so  much  poverty? 

Kieft,  a  man  who  had  never  yet  received 
parochial  relief  had  come  to  the  meeting  of 
the  deacons  and  had  stood  by  the  door,  cap 
in  hand,  until  the  deacons  told  him  to  come 
nearer;  and  then  he  had  stood  with  his  eyes 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  159 

fixed  on  the  ground,  as  one  who  is  about 
to  commit  a  crime,  and  the  deacons  had'  told 
him  it  was  not  necessary  to  say  anything,  for 
they  knew  all  about  ft.  He  did  not  need  to 
feel  ashamed  either,  for  who  could  say  that 
the  deacons  themselves  would  not  be  in  the 
same  predicament  that  year?  That  had  com* 
forled  Kieft  and  it  seemed  as  if  a  weight 
of  shame  had  been  lifted  from  him  by  the 
kindness  of  these  men. 

But  that  was  only  the  beginning  of  the 
poverty. 

No  one  else  had  come  after  Kieft;  but  the 
deacons  understood  that  they  must  go  uninvited 
to  some  houses  and  give,  for  who  else  would 
bear  the  humiliation,  as  Kieft  had  done?  So 
the  deacons  gave  away  when  they  should  have 
been  economising. 

They  were  encouraged  to  do  this  by  the 
Jew.  "What  made  him  interfere?"  they 
wondered.  "Go  on  giving,"  he  had  said:  "go 
on  giving;  when  the  cash-box  is  empty  there 
will  surely  be  some  more  money;"  and,  in 
saying  this,  he  had  smiled  so  knowingly  that 
the  brethren  saw  througjh  him.  For  the  Jew 
had  come  out  well  in  a  former  time  of  want. 
He  had  taken  the  trouble  to  send  them'  a  gift 
via  Amsterdam,  so  that  it  might  appear  to 


160          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

be  sent  by  a  stranger.  They  had  never  dared 
to  tell  'him  that  they  guessed  him  to  be  the 
anonymous  donor,  for  ft  might  have  looked 
as  if  they  were  ill-bred  enough  to  wish  to 
sound  him;  but  they  guessed  it  was  he! 

"Save,  save,"  all  the  men  said  to  their  wives 
in  those  days.  And  a  sign  of  their  thrift  was 
that  very  few  men  ever  entered  the  public 
house;  it  was  seen  in  the  simple  fare,  even 
more  simple  than  it  used  to  be;  they  tried 
to  save  in  order  to  avoid  the  toll-duty,  by 
walking  to  market;  and  by  economising  in 
a  thousand  other  little  things,  devised  by  the 
dread  of  poverty. 

And  in  their  fear  the  people  talked  to  each 
other  when  they  walked  home  from  church; 
they  talked  about  the  sermon  only  in  connection 
with  the  coming  distress.  If  there  had  been  an 
allusion  to  it  in  the  sermon,  it  was  quoted  and 
dfscussed  on  the  walk  home ;  but  they  went  about 
and  talked  as  people  walking  in  their  sleep. 

When  three  or  four  people  met  at  the 
bridge  they  would  put  their  heads  together, 
but  in  vain;  four  people  were  no  wiser  than 
one  alone. 

Then  a  suggestion  was  made  to  hold  a  day 
of  prayer. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  161 

Who  had  been  the  first  to  think  of  it?  No 
one  knew. 

They  had  discussed  it  on  the  Square.  They 
had  talked  about  it  in  Sieds*  public  house; 
they  had  talked  about  it  in  the  parish  council 
before  the  meeting  commenced. 

Who  could  say  who  was  the 'first  to  suggest 
it?  But  one  day  something  occurred  which 
filled  the  members  of  the  Reformed  Church 
with  a  great  respect  for  their  minister.  They 
had  seen  Walter  come  out  of  his  house  and 
go  straight  to  Senserff's  vicarage;  they  saw 
him  ring  the  bell  and  go  in.  And  when  they 
saw  him  come  out  again,  they  would  have 
liked  to  know  what  he  had  spoken  about. 
But  on  the  next  Sunday  the  whole  community 
knew,  for  it  was  announced  from  both  pulpits, 
with  consent  of  the  respective  churchwardens, 
that  on  the  following  Wednesday  a  day  of 
prayer  would  be  held  by  all  the  people, 
and  that  there  would  be  a  service  in  eiach 
church. 

"All  honour  is  due  to  our  minister  for 
being  the  first  to  go  to  the  other  one,"  the 
members  of  the  Reformed  Church  said, 
and  the  Dissenters  regretted  a  little  that 
their  minister  ha<l  not  been  the  one  to  take 
that  step. 

11 


162          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

And  so  the  day  of  prayer  came  about,  and 
never  before,  in  the  memory  of  the  oldest 
inhabitants  of  Eastloorn,  had  a  day  of  prayer 
been  held  in  midsummer. 

The  Wednesday  came. 

The  heat  was  even  greater  than  it  had  been 
before.  There  was  an  east  wind,  a  gentle  east 
wind.  The  people  did  not  know  how  it  was 
that  the  sun  and  the  east  wind  together  did 
not  set  fire  to  the  houses  and  woods.  It  would 
not  have  surprised  them  at  all  if  a  sudden 
swarm  of  locusts  had  come  down  from  the 
heavens,  a  swaanm  such  as  they  had  read  of  in 
the  Bible.  In  their  imagination  they  were  in  the 
land  of  Canaan  all  day  long,  on  this  day  of 
prayer. 

They  were  all  dressed  in  their  best  clothes, 
the  men,  the  women,  and  the  children.  Any 
one  who  did  not  know  would  have  thought 
it  was  the  celebration  of  some  festival. 

They  came  from  far  and  near,  some  people 
from  a  distance  of  two  or  three  hours;  they 
came  from  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  com- 
munity, some  of  them  living  in  huts  in  the 
wood,  and  others  on  the  moor;  yet  they  came, 
and  after  their  isolation  it  seemed  to  these 
people  as  if  they  were  having  a  peep  into 
the  great  world  that  day. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  163 

People  who  lived  on  the  other  side  of  the 
marshland  came,  and  they  could  now  come 
straight  across,  and  walk  through  an  almost 
dry  river. 

The  numbers  of  church-goers  increased 
steadily,  and  formed  a  thick  crowd.  The  village 
street  was  full  of  people  when  the  villagers 
themselves  also  came  out.  Who  had  ever  before 
seen  the  village  so  crowded  ? 

No  one  seemed  to  have  stayed  at  home. 
Hitherto  one  man  was  always  left  behind  to 
guard  the  farm,  but  there  was  no  one  who 
deemed  it  necessary  to  take  this  precaution  now. 

The  mass  of  people  filed  into  the  two 
churches ;  there  was  not  enough  room  in  either, 
so  that  some  of  them  had  to  stand  outside 
on  the  Square. 

And,  when  the  service  began,  a  deep  silence 
came  over  the  congregations;  even  those 
standing  outside  were  attentive;  it  seemed  to 
them  as  if  the  church  walls  had  expanded 
so  that  they  also  were  inside. 

As  the  invocation  was  offered  everything 
was  so  quiet  tHat  the  people  could  hear  the 
sighing  of  the  east  wind  in  the  branches  and 
among  the  shrivelled-up  leaves ;  they  could  hear 
the  distant  barking  of  a  lonely  dog  on  one  of 
the  farms,  and,  far  away,  the  rattling  wheels 


164          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

of  the  mail-cart  wh'ich  had  passed  before 
church-time. 

But  when  the  singing  began:  —  it  was  an 
elegy,  a  penitential  hymn  to  the  Lord,  —  then 
it  was  as  if  Ithe  pent-up  feelings  of  hundreds 
broke  out.  Now  they  might  lament,  these 
people  who  considered  it  ill-bred  ever  to 
complain;  now  they  might  cry  out,  these 
people  who  considered  it  ill-bred  to  cry  out. 
And  it  sounded  loudly;  they  raised  their 
voices  as  much  as  they  could,  so  that,  if 
possible,  the  sound  might  penetrate  to  God's 
ears,  God  who  sat  there  on  His  throne,  so 
high  up  in  the  Heavens.  It  was  surprising 
that  the  roof  did  not  come  off  with  that  singing ! 
that  the  walls  were  not  shattered  as  the  walls 
of  Jericho! 

In  the  pause  between  the  verses  one  could 
hear  the  ear-splitting  singing  of  the  other 
church,  so  that  when  the  next  verse  was  begun 
the  shouting  became  even  louder,  as  if  to 
outvie  the  other  congregation. 

That  evening,  the  fisherman's  wife,  who  had 
stayed  at  home  because  she  was  ill,  told  her 
husband  that  she  had  been  able  to  hear  the 
singing;  and  she  lived  right  outside  of  the 
village,  by  the  river,  there  where  the  river 
is  widest! 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  165 

When  the  people  were  relieved  by  lamenting 
to  their  heart's  content,  now  that  it  was  per- 
mitted, they  settled  for  the  prayer  and  to  listen 
to  what  the  preachers  had  to  say  for.  them- 
selves on  that  day. 

And  that  day  all  that  the  ministers  said 
was  thought  right.  Even  those  who,  at  other 
times,  always  thought  it  necessary  to  make 
some  remark,  were  satisfied  now.  The  general 
opinion  was  that  never  in  any  church  in 
the  country  had  there  been  such  sermons. 
Penalty  was  the  key-note  of  both  sermons. 
Penalty!  For  the  drought  was  surely  a 
punishment  for  the  sins  of  the  community; 
for  the  sins  committed  openly,  and  for  the 
sins  which  had  been  kept  secret.  And  it  was 
thought  quite  right  that  the  two  ministers 
spoke  in  this  manner.  Every  one  agreed  with 
them.  And  if  they  had  wished  to  put  it  even 
more  strongly  they  were  quite  at  liberty! 
Each  person  was  inclined  that  day  to 
magnify  his  own  sins ! 

And  when,  finally,  after  the  sermon  the  last 
prayer  was  said,  then  all  the  anguish,  the  fear, 
the  longing  and  everything  the  people  had 
felt  during  those  long  months  was  expressed 
in  such  a  deep,  silent  joining  in  the  minister's 
words,  that  nothing  at  all  was  heard  in  the 


166          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

church  save  his  voice,  and  a  dog's  barking 
on  the  distant  farm. 

Not  only  the  preachers  wiped  their  hot  faces 
after  the  service ;  every  one  came  out  of  church 
bathed  in  perspiration. 

The  sun  stood  high  in  the  heavens.  The  wor- 
shippers walked  homewards,  dressed  in  their 
thick  Sunday  clothes,  on  the  hot,  dusty, 
shadeless  roads. 

No  one  in  Eastloorn  will  ever  forget  that 
going  to  church. 

Neither  will  they  forget  that  which  happened 
in  the  afternoon ! 

When  the  last  man  had  reached  home,  even 
those  who  lived  two  or  three  hours  away  —  a 
miracle  seemed  to  happen  —  their  prayer  for 
ram  was  about  to  be  heard! 

There  was  no  more  east  wind;  it  had  gone 
down.  And  they  were  almost  certain  that  they 
could  feel  a  Very  faint  breath  of  air,  which  came 
from  the  south.  It  was  not  wind;  jus*  a  breath, 
soft  and  gentle,  scarcely  noticeable.  They  could 
see  a  faint  movement  in  the  leaves  of  the 
white  poplar.  How  could  that 

But  suddenly  something  else  happened 

there,  in  the  sky,  in  the  West,  there  was  a  cloud, 

a  cloud  of  the  size  of  a  man's  hand Could 

God  so  soon. . 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  167 

Only  unbelieving  eyes  looked  up  at  the  sky. 
The  unbelief  at  the  possible  answering  of  their 
supplication  was  greater  than  their  faith  when 
praying  in  their  distress. 

But  the  cloud  came  near.  There  was 
another,  white,  white  and  gleaming.  The  cloud 
spread,  getting  bigger  and  bigger . . .  Heavens ! 
was  the  rain  coming  ? 

One  big  cloud  was  covering  the  sun.  A 
dark  shadow  rested  upon  the  fields.  The  sun 
pierced  through  it,  however;  but  another  cloud 
came  drifting  over  the  sun,  and  this  one 
remained  there;  the  shadow  which  rested  on 
the  fields  became  darker  and  spread  out.  Rain, 
rain  was  coming! 

And  more  clouds  came  and  yet  more,  from 
the  West,  heavier,  darker,  blacker  clouds. 

The  wind  also  arose  and  it  was  a  west  wind  I 
The  heavens  were  troubled  with  gusts  of  wind 
and  black  clouds!  The  dry  straw  was  blown 
fiom  the  thatched  roofs.  The  dry  branches 
could  not  withstand  the  sweeping  of  the  trees. 
The  cattle  in  the  meadows  turned  their  backs 
to  the  wind. 

Here,  then,  was  the  answering  of  the  prayer  I 
The  Sunday  clothes  were  taken  off.  The  rain-- 
barrels were  carefully  inspected. 

And     not    one    of    the    entire    population 


168          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

remained  indoors;  all  stood  outside,  with 
astonished  and  joyful  faces,  waiting,  waiting, 
for  the  miracle,  God's  miracle! 

For  one  hour  they  waited,  one  hour;  two 
hours.  But  th'en ! . . . 

There  in  the  -western  sky,  whence  the  clouds 
Had  drifted,  one  could  discern,  low  on  the 
horizon,  a  streak  of  light,  white  and  clear, 
untarnished  with  any  black  or  grey,  a  cloudless 
streak  of  light.  And  the  streak  widened  and 
became  a  clear  path  of  light  under  the  dark 
vault  of  thunder-clouds.  And  the  streak  of 
light  widened  until  it  reached  the  sun;  the 
sun,  which  had  been  hidden  a  moment  before, 
once  more  sent  forth  his  scorching  rays,  and 
appeared  from  under  the  clouds,  red  and 
glowing  and  terrible!  It  was  as  if  a  great  fire 
broke  out  behind  the  clouds;  flames  of 
sunshine  leaped  at  the  clouds,  and  pierced 
holes  through  them;  the  clouds  gave  way; 
they  fled.  The  patch  of  light  in  the  sky 
spread  and  the  sun  shot  flaming  arrows  at 
the  drifting  clouds.  Within  half  an  hour  the 
sky  was  again  blue  and  gold  from  one  end 
to  another. 

The  people  thought  they  had  beheld  a  vision ; 
had  there  really  been  clouds  in  the  sky? 

They  put  their  hands  up  to  feel  the  wind . . . 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  169 

the  wind  came  from  the  east.  Had  there  been 
a  west  wind  at  all? 

They  rubbed  their  eyes  and  looked  about 
them  in  all  directions,  as  if  they  had  been 
deceived. 

They  did  not  remember  putting  on  their 
everyday  clothes.  Who  had  placed  the  tanks 
there  to  catch  the  rain? 

And  how  was  it  that  the  dry  leaves  wers 
scattered  about  the  ground,  and  why  were  there 
holes  in  the  thatched  roofs?  Had  a  dream 
passed  over  the  village,  a  dream  of  grey  and 
black  clouds,  a  dream  of  those  who  thirsted 
for  water,  and,  lo,  there  was  no  water? 

There  was  no  one  who  could  interpret  the 
vision,  if  it  had  been  a  vision.  And  there  was 
no  one  who  ventured  to  talk  about  thei  dream. 
The  husband  avoided  his  wife's  questioning 
glances,  and  the  children  dared  not  look  at 
their  mother. 

A  deep  silence  brooded  over  the  village, 
and  the  entire  population  bent  their  heads 
under  the  weight  of  —  God's  anger,  of  which 
the  ministers  had  spoken  in  the  morning. 

The  thought  of  God's  anger  was  the  only 
thing  they  remembered  about  that  day  of 
prayer.  God's  anger  hovered  over  the  vfllage, 


i;o          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

from  east  to  west,  from  north  to  south.  God's 
anger  rested  on  Eastloorn  for  many  days  and 
weeks  yet. 

The  two  ministers  pointed  out  in  vain  that 
they  had  not  meant  this  in  their  sermons; 
they  had  spoken  about  sin  in  general,  not 
about  any  special  sin,  committed  in  the  parish. 
The  people  believed  quite  firmly  that  their  own 
particular  sins  had  invoked  God's  anger,  and 
they  were  convinced  that  their  ministers  only 
tried  to  dissuade  them  because  they  pitied 
them  in  their  plight.  They  were  quite,  quite 
sure  of  it:  this  was  God's  anger. 

For  what  had  taken  place  in  the  evening 
of  the  day  of  prayer,  when  the  sun  shone 
forth  from  beneath  the  clouds?  Not  the  sun, 
but  the  archangel  Gabriel  had  appeared  in 
the  Western  heavens;  they  had  seen  a  great 
light ;  he  had  swung  his  flaming  sword  through 
the  clouds.  Those  were  not  tongues  of  sunfire 
which  had  leapt  up  against  the  clouds,  but 
sparks  from  Gabriel's  sword  as  he  drove  away 
the  clouds  in  the  name  of  God.  Could  any 
one  yet  doubt  that  God's  anger  had  come 
over  Eastloorn? 

This  thought  brought  about  a  weight  of 
depression,  such  as  they  had  not  felt  before. 

God's   anger   was   quite  a   different   matter 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  171 

from  the  feelings  of  fear,  which  they  had 
experienced  before.  For  in  this  cage  the  con- 
sciousness of  their  own  guilt  prevailed,  for 
sins  which  they  had  committed  and  sins  which 
they  had  not  committed.  They  blamed  them- 
selves for  everything.  And  above  all  they  felt 
ashamed. 

It  was  customary  ?n  most  families  to  read 
a  portion  of  the  Bible  after  the  midday  meal, 
and  the  father  of  the  family  in  those  days 
turned  to  the  "Prophets"  by  preference,  and 
he  would  read  to  his  wife  and  children  the 
judgments  which  are  written  there.  And  after 
he  had  finished  reading,  he  was  afraid  to,  pray. 
For  was  it  possible  for  a  sinner  to  pray? 

When  Ilting,  the  bell-ringer,  started  his 
duties  at  six  o'clock  on  Sunday  mornings,  as  if 
he  wished  to  poclaim  unto  all  people  that  the 
Sabbath  had  come  —  he  used  to  imagine 
that  he  had  been  called  unto  this  work  by 
God  Himself;  he  felt  as  if  he  were  doing1  a 
good  work.  He  took  hold  of  the  long;  rope  with 
a  great  reverence,  and  as  he  pulled  there)  was 
a  beautiful  expression  on  his  old  face;  no  one 
would  have  recognised  the  old  labourer  in 
him.  And  as  he  pulled  the  rope  a  small  voice 
seemed  to  chime  in  with  the  ringing  of,  the  old 
bell:  "I  call  them,  oh,  God!  I  call  them,  oh, 


172          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

God!  I  will  not  leave  one  at  home,  oh,  Ixfrd! 
They  shall  all  come  to  thy  Temple,  oh,  Lord'!" 
And  when  he  saw  the  large  number  of  people 
gathered  together  in  God's  house,  he  would 
look  at  them  from  his  seat  by  the  door  with 
secret  joy,  as  if  he  were  saying:  "I  have  done 
this,  Lord!"  And  he  would  gaze  up  at  the 
preacher  with  a  wonderful  look  in  his  eyes,  as 
if  he  wanted  to  say :  "Now  they  are  all  gathered 
together  and  you  must  do  your  best,  or  my 
work  will  have  been  in  vain!" 

But  that  was  all  before  the  great  drought. 
Now,  when  he  climbed  up  the  steps  to  the 
rope  he  was  overcome  with  fear.  He  scarcely 
dared  touch  the  rope.  He  looked  out  of  the 
small  window  and  across  the  fields;  a  curse 
lay  upon  the  land,  and  upon  its  people.  He 
saw  the  dry  bed  of  the  river  in  the  distance; 
a  curse  lay  upon  the  river.  He  watched  the 
cattle,  scattered  here  and  there  on  the  wide 
meadows:  a  curse  lay  upon  the  cattle.  A  voice 
from  heaven  seemed  to  call  out  to  him :  'Ilting, 
.when  you  come  to  appear  before  me,  who,  has 
required  this  at  your  hand,  to  tread  my  courts  ? 
Your  Sabbaths,  the  calling  of  assemblies,  I 
cannot  away  with;  it  is  iniquity."  He  knew 
this  part  of  the  Book  of  Isaiah  very  well; 
he  used  very  often  to  read  it  in  those  days; 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  173 

that  text,  it  seemed  to  him,  had  been  specially 
written  for  him.  How  then  should  he  dare  to 
touch  the  rope?  He  could  not  do  it. 

An  hour  afterwards,  when  Walter  had 
called  him  to  his  house,  to  reprimand  him 
for  neglecting  his  duties,  he  said:  "Sir,  do 
you  remember  that  text  in  Scripture  about 
the  calling  together  of  the  assemblies:  'I 
cannot  away  with  it;  it  is  iniquity?'  That 
text  was  written  for  me?  How  then  can  I 
ring  the  church  bell?" 

And  only  after  much  persuasion  and  finally 
a  strict  order,  had  he  climbed  up  the  steps 
of  the  tower  once  more  and  started  to.  pull  the 
bell.  He  had  stood  there  with  shaking  knees 
and  trembling  hands.  The  people  said  that  they 
did  not  even  hear  the  ringing  at  the  other  end 
of  the  village,  not  even  at  Green's  cottage. 
And  after  that  day,  on  all  the  following 
Sundays,  as  long  as  the  curse  rested  upon 
Eastloom,  Ilting  the  bell-ringer  had  done  his 
duty  as  one  of  'those  who  had  committed  and 
was  committing  most  sins. 

He  was  ashamed.  Every  one  was  ashamed. 
The  people  felt  ashamed  as  they  went  to 
church.  The  incident  about  the  bellrringing 
had  leaked  out,  and  the  general  opinion  was 
that  the  minister  had  been  in  the  wrong.  That 


174          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

text  from  Isaiah  was  the  subject  of  conver- 
sation as  they  walked  together  and  went  into 
the  church.  Some  of  them  turned  back  after 
they  had  already  entered  the  door.  Soon  there 
were  empty  seats  in  pews  which  had  never 
been  empty  before.  Every  Sunday  there  were 
more  people  who  remained  at  home.  With  a 
curse  resting  upon  them,  they  felt  that  they 
had  no  right  to  enter  a  holy  place.  And  if  they 
d?d  join  in  the  divine  service  they  felt  as 
if  they  had  done  wrong.  They  were  ashamed 
and  made  up  their  minds  not  to  make  the 
same  mistake  another  time. 

There  were  even  some  of  the  elders 
who  stayed  at  home.  They  began  to  doubt 
whether  they  were  really  called  by  God  to 
fulfil  their  office. 

"1  have  put  forth  my  hand  to  the  ark  of 
God  as  Uzza  did,"  Kremar  said  one  day  to 
Danik. 

Danik,  who  was  not  very  bright,  failed  to 
understand  the  allusion. 

"Have  you  not  read  it  in  the  Bible,  Danik  ?" 
Kremar  explained,  "that  David  wanted  to  take 
the  Ark  to  Jerusalem?  The  Ark  stood  in  the 
house  of  Abinadab,  which  was  at  .Gibeah, 
and  Uzza  and  Ahio,  the  two  sons  of  Abinadab, 
drave  the  cart,  upon  which  the  Ark  of  God 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  175 

was  set.  And  when  they  came  to  Nachon's 
threshing-floor  the  oxen  stumbled  and  Uzza 
put  forth  his  hand  to  the  tark  of  God.  What  a 
fool  Uzza  must  have  been!  Did  he  think  that 
the  Ark  wherein  God  lived  could  inot  save 
itself?  God  smote  Uzza  on  the; spot,  Danik,  for 
his  error,  and  there  he  died  by  the  Ark  of  God ! 
Do  you  see,  Danik,  that  it  is  possible  for  a  man 
to  act  as  Uz^a  dfd?  What  right  ha^  a,  man  to 
become  an  elder  ?  Does  he  imagine  .that  God 
requires  him,  and  that  everything  cannot  go 
on  quite  well  without  him?" 

Kremar  dared  not  enter  the  church  after 
that  day  so  long  as  God's  anger  was  upon 
Eastloorn.  He  felt  ashamed  of  being  an 
elder,  and  the  general  opinion  was  that 
he  was  quite  right.  Every  Sunday  there  were 
fewer  people  in  the  churches. 

But  something  else  took  place  before  it  came 
to  this. 

When  on  the  day  of  prayer  God's  anger 
became  manifest,  there  had  been  a  great 
change. 

Gelf's  wife  said:  "This  anger  has  come  upon 
us  because  we  have  strayed  from  the  Church; 
we  have  been  tempted  by  the  Dissension,  we 
must  go  back!"  And  the  next  Sunday  Gelf's 
wife  and  her  three  big  sons  were  seen  sitting 


176          THE    GREAT    DROUGHT 

in  their  former  seats  in  Walter's  Church,  as 
if  they  had  never  been  away.  Many  others 
followed  their  example,  driven  by  the  same 
motives. 

On  the  other  hand,  Ubbo,  the  fisherman, 
said  to  his  wife  and  children:  "The  Lord's 
wrath  has  come  over  us,  because  we  have 
been  disobedient  to  His  voice,  calling  us  from 
the  Church."  On  the  next  Sunday  the  fisherman* 
and  his  family  sat  among  Senserff's  congre- 
gation. And  many  others  followed  his  example, 
driven  by  the  same  considerations. 

The  two  ministers  were  surprised  at  their 
congregations.  No  one  could  tell  which  of  the 
two  was  the  more  grieved.  But  this  pheno- 
menon stopped,  and  more  and  more  people 
stayed  away  altogether.  The  two  worthy  men 
were  seen  walking  together,  near  the  old  oak 
tree,  in  close  conversation,  as  if  they  were 
confiding  to  each  pther  their  great  ^sorrow. 
The  two  ministers  also  were  overcome  with 
shame,  and  each  Sunday  they  felt  it  anew. 

The  sense  of  shame  was  mixed  up  with  the 
daily  life  of  the  people. 

When  Iken  went  to  have  a  look  at  his  buckr 
wheat  field,  —  and  he  could  do  that  as  often 
as  he  felt  inclined,  for  he  had  nothing  else  to 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  177 

do,  —  when  I  ken  went  to  have  a  look  at  his 
buck-wheat,  he  would  stand  there  not  knowing 
what  to  do,  and  he  felt  ashamed.  Had  he 
dared  to  blame  Providence,  he  would  have 
said:  "Lord,  it  is  thy  doing;  thou  wilt  not 
allow  the  seed  to  take  root,  and  thou(  wflt  not 
send  rainf"  But  he  blamed  himself. 

"Kassens,"  he  said,  "the  seed  is  no  good. 
*  I  have  not  been  careful;  do  you  remember 
last  year  when  the  seed  was  brought  in  so 
damp,  I  thought  it  would  do  for  sowingseed. 
But  I  should  have  taken  other  seed.  I  did 
not  keep  it  dry  enough  in  winter  either.  You 
see,  my  boy,  I  have  done  a  foolish  thing." 
He  felt  ashamed. 

"Wilps,"  he  said  to  his  next  door  neighbour, 
"I  was  too  late  this  year  with  my  sowing, 
It  is  my  own  fault;  I  should  have  started 
burning  the  heath  three  weeks  earlier;  then 
the  night  dews  would  have  made  it  come 
up.  At  that  time  there  was  enough  mist  from 
tfie  river;  but  when  I  started  sowing  it  was 
too  late  and  there  was  no  more  dew.  Wh'y 
did  I  put  off  burning  the  heath  so  long?** 
He  felt  ashamed. 

After  he  had  spoken  to  several  other  people 
in  the  same  manner,  he  gave  it  up.  He  was 
afraid  they  might  think  that  he  was  secretly 

it 


178          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

wanting  to  blame  Providence,  and  blaming 
himself  with  his  lips  only. 

He  avoided  any  conversation  about  his  fields. 
He  could  not  tell  people  that  in  the  secrecy 
of  his  own  inner-room,  he  also  blamed  himself. 
What  man  in  Eastloorn  ever  told  any  one  what 
he  prayed  in  his  inner-room?  For  in  that  case 
he  would  have  to  admit  that  he  prayed;  "Oh, 
Lord,  the  buck- wheat  is  not  coming  up;  but 
I  can  tell  thee  alone  that  is  not  the  fault 
of  the  seed,  or  the  burning  of  the  heath. 
I  do  not  blame  the  drought  either.  No,  oh 
Lord,  it  is  on  account  of  my  sins.  I  know 
it,  oh  Lord;  thou  visitest  my  sins  on  me 
and  on  my  house.  Oh  Lord,  I  confess  my 
sins  before  thee,  even  my  secret  sins,  and  the 
sins  of  my  youtH;  punish  me,  but  do  not 
wipe  me  out  from  thy  Book."  And  he  had  not 
even  ventured  to  pray  for  his  buck-wheat. 

He  was  ashamed  to  be  seen  by  any  one. 
When  he  saw  the  minister  coming  in  the 
distance,  he  jumped  across  a  hedge  and  disap- 
peared out  of  sight,  so  that  when  his  wife 
went  to  look  for  him,  she  could  not  find  him 
and  the  minister  did  not  meet  him  that  day. 
Iken  did  not  go  to  church  either  in  those 
days.  His  field  which  was  barren  and  bore 
no  fruit,  as  the  field  of  an  accursed  one, 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  179 

seemed  to  accuse  him  day  and  night,  in  church, 
on  the  market,  alone,  and  when  among  his 
friends.  He  went  about  with  bent  head,  and 
ate  very  little. 

As  in  a  vision,  which  was  not  far  off,  he 
saw  his  harvest  ruined,  his  barns  empty,  his 
wife  and  children  without  bread,  he  himself 
dishonoured,  disgraced  in  the  eyes  of  the  whole 
village. 

But  how  was  he  to  be  blamed  then?  What 
was  his  crime?  He  had  not  acted  differently 
to  all  the  others,  he  had  always  been,  righteous 
in  his  generation.  And  yet  the  drought  had 
come  and  had  scorched  all  his  good  works 
on  the  field  of  his  spiritual  life,  and  only 
an  overwhelming  sense  of  shame  was  left, 
as  the  reflection  of  the  cloudless  summer  sky. 

Everything  was  dying,  without  and  within. 

He  felt  ashamed,  so  that  he  became  quiet  and 
reserved,  and  refused  to  see  any  one. 

When  Jaris'  old  horse  died,  no  one 
suggested  that  it  might  be  of  old  age ;  it  must 
be  God's  anger  which  was  upon  the  beasts 
too.  And  that  opinion  was  confirmed  when 
two  goats  belonging  to  his  neighbour  were 
found  dead  in  the  stable  next;  morning. 

Schepers  went  to  the  marshes  every  day, 
to  count  his  sheep.  He  was  quite  astonished 


i8o          THE   GREAT   DROUGHT 

that  there  weiie  none  wanting.  He  wondered 
how  the  animals  could  possibly  live  with  so 
little  water  to  drink. 

One  day  he  saw  a  stag  standing  on  the 
highest  hill,  a  stag  with  large  horns.  The  animal 
held  his  head  up  high,  sniffing  the  wind  as 
if  he  hoped  to  find  some  moisture  in  it.  "It 
sniffs  up  the  wind  like  the  dragons,"  Schepers 
said  in  Bible  phrase.  He  had  never  understood 
that  verse  before,  but  now  it  was  quite  clear 
to  him.  The  stag  was  not  seen  again,  either 
by  him,  or  by  the  poacher  who  was  always 
to  be  found,  wandering  about  the  fields.  For 
there  was  no  water. 

God's  anger  rested  upon  all  the  meadows, 
and  upon  the  fields,  and  upon  the  beasts, 
and  upon  the  people. 

Shame  cannot  live  in  the  human  heart  for 
ever. 

There  is  a  shame  which  makes  the  blood 
rush  to  a  girl's  cheeks ;  but  lo'I  a  moment  after 
the  blush  has  died  away;  how  great  is  the 
sense  of  shame  when  the  blush  is  no  longer 
on  her  cheeks? 

There  is  another  kind  of  shame,  which  comes 
gradually  step  by  step,  and  finally  conquers 
every  other  feeling;  this  shame  takes  away 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  181 

all  colour  from  a  face  and  makes  it  deathly 
pale,  and  brings  a  wild,  questioning  look  into 
the  eyes,  as  of  one  who  questions  and  gets 
no  answer.  That  sense  of  shame  is  deeper  and 
of  longer  duration ;  it  lives  in  the  human  heart, 
but  then  at  last  it  dies  out  until  nothing  is  left. 

Who  can  say  how  long  a  sense  of  shame  will 
live  in  the  human  heart? 

In  Eastloorn,  it  lived  for  five  or  six'  weeks. 
Then  it  also  died  out,  as  all  thei  other  feelings 
which  had  come  before  had  done.  September 
had  come.  And  how  could  any  one  expect 
the  sense  of  shame  to  exist  longer? 

When  September  came,  all  the  people  had 
become  indifferent. 

Indifferent. 

Did  they  still  look  at  the  sky,  when  they  came 
outside  in  the  mornings?  Did  they  still  go  to 
the  back  of  the  house  to  look  towjards  the 
West?  And  did  they  gaze  at  the  horizon? 
Did  they  put  up  their  Hand,  to  feel  the  direction 
of  the  wind?  And  did  they  still  listen  to  the 
rustling  of  the  dry  branches  in  the  .white 
poplars?  Did  they  still  rub  their  fingers  across 
the  boards  of  the  well,  to  feel  if  there  had 
been  any  dew  during  the  night? 

No  one  did  these  things  any  more. 

Where  they  still  sad,  as  their  eyes  wandered 


182          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

over  the  potato-fields?  Did  they  still  take 
a  stroll  to  their  cornfields,  or  to  their  meadows  ? 
Were  they  still  disappointed  when  they  saw  the 
shining  milk  pails,  standing  there  unused  ?  Did 
they  listen  to  the  encouraging  words  of  their 
ministers,  who  were  more  faithful  than  ever 
in  visiting  them;  did  they  still  listen  to  their 
kind  words?  Were  they  bewildered  as  they 
remembered  how  in  former  years,  at  this  time, 
the  hay  stacks  were  quite  ready? 

No,  a  great  indifference  had  come  over 
every  one  and  over  everything. 

But  it  was  an  indifference  which  suddenly 
changed  into  wildness ;  the  inhabitants  of 
Eastloom  became  wilder  than  they  had  ever 
been  before. 

Afterwards  they  tried  to  explain  exactly  how 
that  wildness  had  come  about.  And  the  general 
opinion  was  that  it  had  begun  at  the  time 
of  the  Fair 

Yes,  to  be  sure,  there  had  bieen  a  Fair 
in  the  neighbouring  town.  And  all  the  young 
people  had  gone  there;  for  at  any  rate  there 
was  no  work  to  be  done.  Why  should;  they  not 
go  after  all?  And  then  the  older  ones  went 
too.  The  people  had  behaved  disgracefully 
at  that  Fair.  They  finished  all  their  money  in 
the  public-houses.  Those  who  never  entered  a 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  183 

public-house  went  then.  Those  who  were  never 
drunk,  were  drunk  then.  Men  and  women  who 
were  usually  an  example  to  others  had  lost  all 
self-control  in  their  wanton  excitement.  No 
one  dared  mention  the  subject  afterwards. 
Several  young  men  were  caught  and  taken 
away  by  the  policeman.  There  were  twice  the 
usual  number  of  marriages  this  year. 

Who  cared  what  happened?  Who  could  still 
think? 

Even  when  the  Fair  was  over,  the  wildness 
did  not  stop;  there  was  more  swearing  and 
blaspheming  than  any  one  had  ever  heajd 
before.  The  young  men  wandered  round  in 
other  villages  to  pick  quarrels,  and  bragged 
about  their  deeds  of  violence  for  days  after. 

The  village  was  no  longer  the  village.  The 
people  no  longer  talked  in  their  former  sweet 
and  gentle  manner,  excusing  everything,  for- 
giving everything;  but  in  a  hard,  brutal,  can- 
tankerous manner,  hurting  others  and  inflicting 
wounds  and  then  revelling  in  those  wounds. 

Now  that  God  had  forsaken  his  people,  what 
use  was  there  in  being  good  ?  How  could,  they 
be  good  ?  For  all  they  cared,  Satan  might  rule 
upon  earth. 

The  psalm,  sung  by  a  heavy  man's  voice 
and'  a  shrill  woman's  voice,  mingling  with  the 


184          THE   GREAT   DROUGHT 

voices  of  children,  was  only  heard  in  very  few 
houses  at  that  time.  But  it  sounded  strange,  as 
voices  from  another  world.  The  wild  songs  of 
noisy  boys  passing  by  had  the  upper  hand, 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Ake's  lost  son 
suddenly  returned  to  the  parish. 

"What  should  prevent  him  coming  back?" 
he  thought,  "for  they  were  all  prodigal  sons 
now.  Who  could  reproach  him  with  any  thing  ?" 

One  evening  he  was  suddenly  seen  sitting 
in  Sieds*  public-house,  holding  a  glass  of  gin 
in  his  hand.  "Was  that  Joop?"  they  wondered. 

"Yes,  it  is  Joop;  you  are  quite  right;  do 
you  not  recognise  me?  I  have  come  back,  for 
we  all  are  alike  now.  We  shall  drink,  boys,  and 
fight!" 

He,  who  before  had  been  declared  an  outlaw, 
had  been  shunned  by  all,  so  that  he  had  to  leave 
the  village,  was  now  received  with  shouts  of 
joy.  It  was  as  if  it  relieved  them;  to  find  some 
one  who  was  even  more  wicked  than  they 
themselves. 

In  the  weeks  that  followed  theft  was  the 
order  of  the  day,  —  theft  and  incendiarism, 
unnecessary  incendiarism  on  the  heath  and 
in  the  •woods,  as  far  as  to.  the  German  town.  And 
Joop  was  the  soul  of  all  that  wantonness.  The 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  185 

older  people  fn  the  village  could  not  prevent  the 
young  ones  following  him.  The  young  girls 
were  afraid  of  him,  and  did  not  venture  out 
on  the  street  in  the  evenings. 

But  he  disappeared  as  suddenly  as  he  had 
come.  One  fine  day  he  was  gone,  and  no 
one  set  eyes  on  him  again.  They  supposed  he 
had  gone  to  the  distant  city,  to  Rotterdam,  of 
which  he  had  bragged  to  his  eager  listeners. 
No  one  could  say  with  any  certainty  why 
he  had  gone. 

But  a  vague  rumour  went  abroad  that  he 
had  quarrelled  with  big  Garst,  who  lived  near 
•Southloorn,  because  his  pretty  sister  Reeze 
had  come  home  very  late  one  night,  crying, 
and  with  torn  clothes.  She  had  cried  alT  night, 
and  all  next  day.  And  she  would  not  tell 
any  one  what  it  was  about,  not  even  her  mother. 

"Was  it  Joop?"  Garst  had  asked  his  sister 
afterwards,  when  he  found  her  alone  one  day 
behind  the  stable. 

She  had  not  answered,  but  she  gave  a  loud 
cry  and  ran  into  the  house,  with  arms  out- 
stretched and  clenching  her  fists,  and  a 
terrified  look  in  her  eyes. 

And   Garst  knew  then  that  it  was  Joop. 

And  two  days  later  Joop  had  disappeared 
from  the  village  for  good;  he  was  afraid  that 


i86          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

big  Garst  might  find  him  alone  one  day  on 
the  moor. 

Then  a  deep  silence  came  over  Eastloorn, 
even  in  the  thoughts  of  the  people.  Who1  could 
still  think  ?  They  were  tired  and  exhausted 
with  thinking,  always  thinking  about  the  same 
subject  for  eight  months. 

The  silence  brooded  everywhere.  There  was 
no  sound  to  be  heard  in  the  pine  trees,  no 
rustling  of  leaves  in  the  white  poplars.  The 
pine  trees  had  dropped  their  brown  needles, 
and  the  poplars  stretched  their  bare  and 
withered  branches  heavenwards;  all  the  leaves 
lay  on  the  ground. 

There  was  no  more  longing  for  rain.  What 
would  be  the  good?  The  time  had  passed;  it 
was  too  late.  What  good  could  the  rain  do 
at  the  end  of  September?  Everything  was  lost 
and  could  not  possibly  be  put  right  again. 

The  people  went  on  living  mechanically. 
They  got  up  early  in  the  morning,  as  they 
had  always  done;  they  went  to  bed  early, 
as  they  had  always  done;  and  they  ate  the 
little  they  had  to  eat. 

But  no  one's  thoughts  were  different  in  the 
evening  to  what  they  had  been  in  the  morning ; 
no  one  seemed  to  think  at  all,  either  before, 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  187 

during,  or  after  the  meal.  No  one  thought 
while  the  chapter  from  the  Bible  was  being 
read  after  the  meal. 

No  one  said:  "Why  am  I  not  working 
to-day  ?" 

No  one  talked  with  his  fields;  even  Sander 
had  ceased  to  do  that. 

The  bell-ringer  no  longer  thought  as  he 
was  ringing;  he  had  no  more  scruples. 

No  one  said:  "I  am  sad." 

And  no  one  said :  "Why  am,  I  not  cheerful  ?" 

Oh,  the  silence  was  very  deep  in  Eastloorn, 
in  the  woods,  on  the  moor,  in  the  houses,  and 
in  the  hearts  of  men. 

For  all  they  cared,  everything  in  their  lives 
and  everything  in  nature  might  have  remained 
just  as  it  was.  There  was  no  more  hope.  The 
time  for  that  had  passed.  But,  when  all 
expectation  and  all  desire  had  died  away,  then 
the  change  came.  It  was  quite  natural  that 
it  should  come,  but  no  one  took  any  notice. 
Only  later  on,  in  winter,  they  often  spoke 
about  it.  And  then  they  remembered  all  that 
had  gone  before. 

It  was  about  the  middle  of  October.  And 
it  happened  in  this  way.  One  morning  the 
sun  shone  through  a  thin,  a  very  thin,  haze. 


i88          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

There  were  no  clouds,  no  mist,  yet  there  was 
a  greyish  look  about  the  sky. 

A  day  later,  —  the  same  thing,  a  little 
more  pronounced  this  time.  The  sky  looked 
a  trifle  greyer.  In  the  evening  the  stars  looked 
less  clear  and  bright;  they  twinkled  in  the 
sky  with  a  very  small,  faint  light,  without 
any  life. 

Yet  a  day  later  —  the  same  thing,  still 
more  pronounced.  That  morning,  Schepers, 
standing  on  the  hill  where  he  had  seen  the 
stag,  could  not  discern  the  town  steeples;  and 
in  the  afternoon  he  could  not  see  even  the 
Southloorn  church  tower.  Was  that  caused  by 
a  mist  from  the  sea  ?  "If  it  had'  been  a  damp 
mist,  I  should  have  seen  it  on  the  barrel  of 
my  gun,"  the  poacher  remarked. 

Yet  a  day  later,  —  the  same  thing,  but 
still  more  pronounced.  The  sun  no  longer 
had  an  aureole  of  sunbeams,  but  an  aureole 
of  mist,  and  it  was  there  until  sunset.  Had 
it  been  the  time  of  the  burning  of  the  heath, 
one  might  have  thought  it  was  caused  by  the 
smoke. 

A  day  later,  —  the  same  thing,  still  more 
pronounced.  Standing  by  the  bridge  at  the 
entrance  to  the  village,  one  could  not  see 
the  dyke  where  Ebel's  windmill  stood.  The 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  189 

mill  was  still  visible,  but  the  sails  where  not. 
Towards  the  afternoon  Laker's  pine-wood 
looked  like  a  floating  island,  sometimes  hidden 
from  view,  sometimes  clearly  visible.  The 
bridge-man,  looking  at  the  dry  river-bed,  as 
he  had  done  so  often  during  all  those  long 
months,  noticed  that  there  was  a  little  moisture 
on  the  rail  of  the  bridge. 

Next  morning  there  was  moisture  over  all 
the  country  and  on  the  roofs  of  the  houses. 
There  was  no  sun  to  be  seen.  One  could 
only  tell  by  a  patch  of  light  in  the  sky  where 
the  sun  was.  It  was  also  colder,  as  cold  as 
it  is  in  November.  The  cattle  in  the  meadows 
stood  herded  together.  And  the  fisherman  saw 
a  gull  skim  the  surface  of  the  water,  where 
the  bulrushes  grew:  and  a  moment  after  he 
saw  another  gull. 

And  the  next  day  it  came.  Very  gently, 
very  slowly,  as  moist  vapour  descending  upon 
earth;  then  small  drops,  very  small  idrops, 
and  at  last,  at  last,  rain;  a  rain  which  came  in 
a  steady  downpour  for  days  and  weeks. 

But  no  one  rejoiced  in  Eastloorn. 
The  people  were  still  wrapped  in  that  deep 
silence. 
The    deliverance    had   come    too   late,    for 


190          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

winter  was  fast  approaching.  Winter,  without 
any  glad  thoughts  of  a  full  haystack,  and 
without  any  thoughts  of  potatoes  to  be  dug  up, 
and  wheat  to  be  threshed  in  the  barn,  and 
without  even  any  certainty  of  daily  bread. 
Winter  now  stood  for  poverty.  The  silence 
might  have  brooded  over  Eastloorn  for  a  good 
long  time. 

If  something  unexpected  had  not  happened 
one  Sunday,  the  people  would  not  have  been 
roused  from  dull  despair;  they  might  not  Have 
begun  to  think  again  until  next  Spring.  This 
is  what  happened. 

On  that  particular  Sunday  morning  the 
Jew's  wife  had  said  to  her  husband:  "Jacob, 
what  are  you  doing?  You  are  putting  on  the 
wrong  clothes.  It  is  not  the  Sabbath  to-day; 
what  is  the  matter  with  you?" 

And  he  had  said:  "Sarah,  be  quiet.  I  am 
going  to  church,  to  Mr.  Walter's  church;  I 
want  to  see  if  the  people  can  rejoice  when  the 
minister  speaks  to  them.  Sarah,  be  thrifty, 
I  used  to  say!" 

And  the  congregation  had  seen  him  standing 
in  the  church,  by  the  pillar  near  the  door, 
during  the  whole  service. 

No  one  had  stared  at  him  as  if  he  thought: 
"What  business  has  the  Jew  to  come  here?" 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  191 

Jacob  thought  they  were  all  very  polite,  not 
to  show  their  astonishment. 

And  when,  after  the  service,  the  churchwar- 
dens met  in  the  vestry,  and  when  they  emptied 
the  collection  bags  on  the  table,  in  order  to 
count  the  money,  they  were  startled  and 
looked  at  each  other  in  surprise;  for,  on  the 
table,  among  all  the  small  coins,  lay  a  bianfc-note 
of  a  thousand  guilders. 

It  was  in  that  week  that  the  inhabitants 
of  Eastloorn  began  to  think  again,  and  that 
hope  revived. 

And  this  new  hope  was  brought  about  by 
yet  another  incident. 

In  the  vestry  of  the  Dissenting  Church 
Senserff  had  said  to  his  church  wardens : 
"Brethren,  I  have  heard  about  the  thousand 
guilders  which  have  been  given  in  the  other 
church.  The  Jew  was  ahead  of  the  Christian 
this  time,  but  that  cannot  be  helped;  I  only 
wish  that  I  had  spoken  a  week  sooner;  tjien 
it  would  have  been  different.  For  I  intend  to 
hand  over  toy  stipend  for  half  a  year  to 
the  poor  fund.  As  you  know,  I  have  no 
wife,  and  no  children;  I  can  afford  to  do  it 
better  than  any  of  you.  May  God  help  the 
poor!" 

Then  the  villagers  once  more  began  to  think, 


192          THE    GREAT   DROUGHT 

ajid  also  to  work;  and  the  old  piety  returned. 
Eastloorn  was  as  it  used  to  be. 

That  week  Wlegen,  the  Dreamer,  was  in  a 
difficult  fix.  Young  Dreese,  who  was  a  little 
like  his  father,  and  was  also  addicted  to 
asking  questions  which  were  not  liked  by  every 
one,  had  enquired  of  Wiegen,  as  the  men 
were  collected  together  on  the  Square  one 
evening:  "Tell  me,  Wiegen,  is  Jacob,  the  Jew, 
also  a  member  of  your  invisible  Church?" 

The  Dreamer  had  not  answered  at  all, 
Kremar,  one  of  the  churchwardens,  however, 
helped  him  out  of  the  difficulty.  "Say  it 
yourself,  Dreese!"  he  said.  But  Dreese  refused 
to  do  this. 


VI 
AKE,  THE  MAD  WOMAN 

Ake  was  the  mad  woman  in  the  village. 

It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  there  is  a  mad 
person  in  nearly  every  village.  In  Southloorn 
it  was  a  young  man,  who  always  sat  by  the 
side  of  the  road,  under  a  hawthorn  tree.  In 
Oestwold  there  was  Mrs.  Jannink's  daughter, 
a  girl  with  long  plaits,  who  sold  brooms.  And 
in  all  the  other  villages  in  the  neighbourhood 
there  was  one.  And  they  never  did  any  one 
any  harm. 

In  Eastloorn  there  was  Ake. 

Ake  was  quite  mad.  She  had  been  mad 
for  so  long  that  scarcely  any  one  had  known 
her  to  be  sane. 

For  many  a  year  they  had  seen  her  walking 
about  the  village  with  a  heavy  bundle  of  wood 
on  her  back,  carrying  a  thick  stick  in  her  old 
hands.  She  walked  with  a  firm  tread,  without 
looking  at,  or  speaking  to,  any  one,  —  so  that 

tt 


194        AKE,   THE   MAD   WOMAN 

no  one  could  picture  her  doing  anything  else. 
Only  rich  Mrs.  Goestel,  the  old  baker's 
.widow,  who  was  of  the  same  age  as  Ake,  could 
remember  her  otherwise.  When  they  were  both 
very  young  they  had  gone  to  school  together, 
when  Mr.  Jansen  was  schoolmaster.  But  none 
of  the  other  people  could  remember  that  time; 
three  other  masters  had  taken  Mr.  Jansen's 
place  since  then. 

"How  long  has  she  been  mad,  Mrs.  Goestel  ?" 
Walter  enquired  one  day. 

"I  believe  it  must  be  forty  years;  oh,  quite 
that,  for  I  am  sixty-four  now.  Yes,  yes,  it  must 
be  quite  that,"  the  baker's  widow  answered, 
pensively. 

"But  how  did  it  all  come  about,  Mrs.  Goestel  ?" 
Walter  said,  for  he  wanted  to  get  to  the  bottom 
of  the  mystery. 

"No  one  ever  knew  the  exact  story," 
Mrs.  Goestel  answered,  as  if  she  were  talking 
to  herself  and  wished  to  avoid  inquisitive 
questions. 

But  Walter  persisted;  he  was  determined 
to  know  more  than  all  the  other  villagers. 

"Well,  you  must  have  heard  one  fact  often 
enough  from  others,"  she  said.  "We  were  both 
keeping  company,  Ake  and  I.  Theri  I  married, 
and  Ake  did  not  And  we  both  had  a  child 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  195 

christened  on  the  same  day.  That  was  a 
terrible  disgrace  for  her.  She  was  sp  pale 
and  she  trembled  so  that  the  vergfer,  the  one 
before  this  one,  had  to  hold  the  baby  at  the 
font;  the  verger  did  that!  And  in  coming 
out  of  church  the  boys  called  him  'Godfather,' 
and  he  kept  this  nickname  until  he  died." 

Walter  never  found  out  any  more.  The 
baker's  widow  had  not  given  him  any  more 
information  than  any  man  or  woman  in  the 
village  could  do. 

But  the  history  was  quite  clear  to  Walter's 
vivid  imagination,  a  history  such  as  he  had 
often  read  in  novels . . .  the  disgrace  of  a 
deserted  girl ...  a  breach  of  promise ; . . .  the 
anxious  months,  in  expectation  of  the  disgrace 
which  would  be  public  property  then ; . . .  the 
christening,  without  a  husbapd  who  should 
have  stood  beside  the  mother ; . . .  the  quiet 
retirement  into  her  own  home ; . . .  thinking, 
day  and  night,  year  after  year,  about  the 
one  subject,  always  the  same  subject . . .  until 
gradually,  very  gradually,  a  period  came  when 
it  was  difficult  to  draw  the  line  between  sane 
thinking  and  insane  thinking ; . . .  and,  finally, 
those  strange  manners,  which  had  made  all 
the  villagers  talk  about  her  as  "crazy  Ake." 

Walter  had  a  vivid  fancy,  he  could  .weave 


196         AKE,   THE   MAD   WOMAN 

out  long  histories  in  his  imagination;  but  this 
time  it  gave  him  pain,  —  and  the  pain  gave 
him  a  vague  idea  what  the  suffering  must 
have  been  to  the  woman  herself  during  all 
those  long  years,  a  suffering  which  made  the 
poor  woman  mad  at  last. 

Ake  was  mad  now,  that  was  certain. 

She  never  harmed  any  one,  even  when  the 
boys  shouted  after  her,  as  she  walked  through 
the  village. 

She  stepped  steadily  on,  with  the  bundle 
of  wood  on  her  back;  the  boys  might  laugh 
and  tease  and  come  as  near  as  they  liked; 
she  never  even  raised  her  stick  at  them.  They 
always  stopped  at  the  bridge,  at  the  end  of 
the  village  street,  they  never  went  any  further. 
She  knew  that;  and  only  the  very  little  boys 
shouted ;  the  big  ones  had  given  it  up  long  ago. 
The  people  in  Eastloorn  were  always  courteous 
and  well-bred,  even  to  Ake. 

She  had  noticed  this  in  spite  of  her  dumbness. 
She  knew  that  when  these  boys  were  but  a 
year  older  they  would  stop  doing  such  foolish 
things.  She  did  worry  a  little  about  the  new 
generation,  which  would  surely  be  there  to 
tease  her.  Why,  she  wondered,  did  the  women 
always  go  on  having  children? 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  197 

But  at  this  query  her  brain  seemed  to  stop 
working  suddenly,  and  she  would  wipe  some- 
thing away  from  in  front  of  her  eyes  with  her 
hand. 

The  people  often  saw  her  doing  this  with 
her  hand;  it  was  a  habit. 

Ake  went  to  church  regularly.  Formerly  she 
used  to  go  to  Walter's  church,  but  afterwards 
she  went  to  the  Dissenting  church,  Seftserff's 
church.  She  always  had  her  own  seat  in  the 
old  church,  and  now  5n  the  new,  and  was  never 
troublesome  during  the  service. 

She  knew  exactly  how  long  to  keep  her 
eyes  shut  when  the  minister  prayed;  she  knew 
that  when  the  Amen  was  said  it  was  time 
to  open  them. 

When  the  Psalm  was  given  out  it  always 
took  her  a  long  time  to  find  it.  She  could 
not  understand  why  no  hjymns  were  givem  out 
in  Senserff's  church,  only  Psalms.  She  thought 
she  must  surely  be  getting  deaf;  and  when 
the  second  Psalm  was  being  sung  she  always 
persisted  in  turning  over  the  leaves  of  the 
hymn  book,  and  at  last  pretended  to  have 
found  it.  The  women  sitting  next  to  her  on 
either  side  saw  this. 

During  the  sermon,  she  sat  with  a  vacant 


198         AKE,   THE    MAD   WOMAN 

look  in  her  eyes,  always  gazing  at  the  door, 
afe  if  she  were  expecting  some  one  to  come 
in  who  never  came.  Occasionally  she  would 
wipe  something  away  from  in  front  of  her 
eyes;  this  was  a  habit. 

When  the  collection  bags  were  handed 
round  she  always  gave  two  cents;  that  was 
more  than  many  others  gave;  the  deacons 
were  quite  sure  that  she  put  in  two  cents. 

"I  can  feel  it,"  Niesink,  the  bee-farmer  said. 
It  was  etiquette  for  the  deacons  to  collect 
with  their  heads  turned  away,  as  if  they  wanted 
to  say  that  they  knew  quite  well  that  it  was 
not  the  thing  to  spy  at  what  the  others  were 
giving.  "I  can  feel  it,"  Niesink  said;  "every 
one  can  develop  a  fine  sense  of  feeling  with 
that  long  pole  in  his  hand.  The  other  day  when 
the  old  widow  of  the  clogger  came  to  church 
on  the  anniversary  of  her  husband's  death, 
she  put  a  bank-note  into  the  bag.  I  knew 
at  once  that  the  ten  guilders  were  from  her." 

When  church  was  over,  Ake  was  treated 
in  the  same  way  as  any  one  else;  she  came 
out  in  the  midst  of  the  throng,  and  as  she 
went  up  the  road  no  one  would  have  known 
her  to  be  "crazy  Ake." 

And  a,t  Whitsuntide  no  one  appeared  to 
notice  the  strange  thing  she  did  either.  For 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  199 

when  church  was  over  ft  was  the  custom,  — 
and  no  one  in  Eastloorn  ever  knew  from  what 
time  that  custom  dated,  —  that  the  married 
women  went  up  to  the  flowering  hawthorn 
tree  which  stood  on  the  left  side  of  the  church 
door  on  the  Square.  Each  woman  then  plucked 
a  flower  from  the  tree  and  fastened  it  on  to  her 
husband's  hat,  so  that  every  one  on  the  Square 
could  see  it.  It  was  a  joyous  sight  to  see 
these  women  do  that,  and  the  men,  decorated 
in  this  manner,  had  a  festive  appearance.  Ake 
also  always  joined  the  others  in  picking  a 
flower;  for  did  she  not  belong  to  the  married 
women  too?  But  as  soon  as  she  held  the 
flower  in  her  hand,  it  was  quite  evident  that 
she  got  muddled;  for  to  whom  was  she  to 
give  the  blossom,  and  whose  hat  was  she  to 
decorate  with  it  ?  She  looked  round  at  the 
people  on  the  Square  feeling  embarrassed; 
and  again  she  wiped  some  imaginary  thing 
from  before  her  eyes  and  walked  up  the  road 
slowly,  holding  the  twig  in  her  hand.  Not 
one  person  on  the  Square  ever  appeared  to 
notice  what  a  mad  thing  Ake  was  doing.  She 
did  it  every  year,  and  they  were  all  convinced 
that  she  kept  every  one  of  those  withererf 
twigs  in  her  hut  beside  the  hymn  book  in 
the  cupboard. 


200        AKE,   THE   MAD   WOMAN 

But  although  Ake  went  to  church  very 
regularly,  whenever  there  was  a  christening 
or  a  celebration  of  holy  communion,  she  never 
appeared.  It  was  a  wonder  she  never  made 
a  mistake!  She  knew  how  to  distinguish 
between  the  two. 

No  one  knew  why  she  had:  joined  the 
Dissenting  church.  There  had  been  much  talk 
about  it,  that  even  a  mad  woman  had  taken  a 
side  in  the  ecclesiastical  struggle!  When  she 
came  to  Walter  to  tell  him  of  her  plans,  he 
had  not  been  able  to  get  anything  out  of  her, 
Nor  had  Sernserff  succeeded  any  better.  The 
only  thing  she  had  said  to  Senserff  was; 
"Perhaps  I  shall  find  him  with  you." 

"Who   then,   Ake?"   Senserff   questioned. 

"Him,  of  course,"  she  had  said.  "He  did  not 
come  into  the  other  church,  though  I  waited 
for  years;  perhaps  he  will  come  in  here/' 

And  Senserff  had  not  been  able  to  find 
out  anything  else.  But  later,  much  later,  when 
he  knew  all,  he  understood  how  it  was  that 
during  the  sermon  she  always  sat  gazing  at 
the  door  with  vacant  eyes. 

There  was  another  thing  that  the  people 
knew  about  Ake.  Every  one  knew  that  she 
had  had  a  naughty  boy;  that  was  the  boy 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  201 

she  had  seen  christened  without  a  father.  The 
boy's  name  was  Joop.  And  he  had  become 
a  bad  boy. 

It  had  all  begun  at  school.  No  one  had 
been  able  to  persuade  him  to  go  to  school 
regularly.  He  had  always  been  at  loggerheads 
with  the  schoolmaster.  He  was  wild;  not  like 
the  other  children  in  Eastloorn;  foreign  blood 
flowed  through  his  veins. 

"An  impudent  German!"  the  master  had  once 
called  him.  And  that  saying  had  leaked  out 
and  was  repeated  from  mouth  to  mouth,  and 
Ake  started  visibly  when  the  boy  told  her 
how  the  master  had  nicknamed  him.  "Never 
tell  me  again  what  the  master  called  you/' 
she  said,  and  Joop  had  not  understood  why. 

When  he  grew  up,  he  refused  fo  find  work; 
he  ran  about  idle.  His  only  occupation  was 
to  snare  hares,  to  dig  out  rabbits,  to  lie  out  on 
the  marsh  in  winter  on  the  look-out  for  German 
mountain  ducks.  What  else  could  he  do?  He 
was  constantly  in  and  out  of  the  public-house; 
he  fought;  once  he  even  attacked  the  village 
constable,  so  that  he  was  put  in  prison  for  a 
few  months.  The  young  man  had  become  the 
terror  of  the  moor  and  of  the  wood.  Who  liked 
to  meet  him  on  a  lonely  part  of  the  moor? 

One  day,  and  that  was  more  thant  twenty 


202        AKE,   THE   MAD   WOMAN 

years  ago,  Ruurd,  the  son  of  Ilting,  the  bell- 
ringer,  had  been  found  dead  in  a  field  near 
Iken's  buck-wheat  field.  One  could  see  that 
there  had  been  a  fierce  struggle,  for  the  buck- 
wheat had  been  trodden  down  on  that  spot, 
and  the  white  flowers  were  red  with  blood. 
Suspicion  had  fallen  on  Joop,  but  the  court 
of  justice  had  not  been  able  to  find  enough 
evidence.  Joop  had  denied  it;  and  the  half 
silly  mother  had  been  witness  that  he  had 
slept  at  home  that  night.  He  had  walked  about 
the  village  in  an  impudent  manner  for  several 
days  after  that,  for  a  week  in  fact.  But  then 
suddenly  he  had  disappeared,  and  had  never 
been  seen  again  during  the  first  years. 

A  rumour  went  about  that  he  had  enlisted 
for  the  East;  but  no  one  could  be  sure  of 
it.  Some  said  that  he  got  a  place  among  the 
dock-labourers  in  Rotterdam.  One  thing  was 
certain,  however,  that  since  that  day  Ake  had 
become  absolutely  mad. 

There  were  only  a  few  people  in  the  village 
who  thought  that  she  had  more  sense  than 
one  might  imagine. 

Ake  lived  near  the  German  border  —  about 
two  hours'  walk  from  the  inhabited  part  of 
the  community. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  203 

Few  people  ever  came  as  far  as  that.  There 
the  moor  extended  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see. 

Just  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village  were 
the  large  farms,  and  they  were  surrounded 
by  fruit-trees.  It  was  a  beautiful  sight  when 
the  trees  were  blossoming,  white  ajid  red. 
Further  up  lay  the  fields,  the  corn-fields,  and 
higher  up  the  buck-wheat  fields.  Then  came 
the  wooded  part,  —  oak-groves  where  the 
wood-cutter  found  enough  work  to  do  in  spring. 
Then  the  pine- woods;  and  finally  the  moor, 
first  in  small  patches,  and  then  in  bigger 
patches,  until  the  wide  heath  extended  far 
into  Germany,  endless,  immeasurable,  boundr 
less.  Which  .of  the  villagers  ever  came  as 
far  as  that? 

The  German  merchant,  Asmus,  who  bought 
up  all  sorts  of  things  and  visited  Eastloiorn 
once  a  month,  always  came  across  the  heath. 
He  knew  how  far  the  moor  extended,  but  the 
people  did  not  believe  him  when  he  said  that  it 
took  weeks  to  reach  the  other  side  of  the 
heath. 

"Weeks,  Asmus?  Weeks?"  they  would 
enquire,  with  the  suspicious  manner  of  people 
who  think  that  foreigners  are  always  trying 
to  take  them  in. 

"Certainly,"   he   answered;   "from  here  the 


204         AKE,   THE   MAD   WOMAN 

moor  extends  to  the  Ems,  that  is  a  river  you 
know;  and  to  the  North  it  extends  to  the 
province  of  Groningen;  that  is  the  Bourtanger- 
marshland.  Many  a  time  I  have  slept  out  on 
the  moor,  lying  on  a  knoll,  because  there 
was  not  even  a  hut  to  be  found,  surrounded 
by  wet  soil ;  soil  that  does  not  look  like  water, 
and  yet  if  you  tried  to  walk  on  it  you  would  be 
drowned.  I  have  seen  the  Will-o-the  wisps; 
poor  children!  they  never  rested,  and  when 
two  flames  came  close  together,  they  would 
whisper  for  a  moment  and  dance  off  again. 
I  do  not  know  how  many  die  without  being 
christened,  but  judging  from  the  number  of 
lights  that  burn  on  the  moor  there  must  be 
a  great  many  every  day!" 

"Are  those  things  you  tell  us  about  quire 
true,  Asmus  ?" 

"Of  course  they  are!  I  have  also  seen  the 
White  Women  when  I  slept  on  the  knoll, 
surrounded  by  marshes.  They  are  ugly,  and 
they  have  long  arms;  they  swing  about  their 
arms,  as  if  they  want  to  catch  ycM|.  I  lay  very 
still,  I  can  assure  you;  they  never  saw  me." 

"Mr.  Walter  says,  that  we  must  not  believe 
in  those  things  any  more,  but  Schepers 
himself  sa,w  them  past  Ake's  hut,  when  he  used 
to  look  after  the  sheep;  and  Schepers  is  a 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  205 

truthful  man  who  never  3ays  a  thing  if  it 
is  not  true.  You  know  Schepers,  do  you  not, 
Asmus  ?" 

"I  am  sure  Ake  sees  them  top,  if  she  wouki 
only  say  so,"  the  German  resumed.  "To  whom 
otherwise  does  she  talk  in  the  night  when 
she  stands  outside  of  her  hut  in  the  snowstorm  ? 
I  found  her  there  one  night  last  winter  when 
I  could  not  get  any  farther  and  wtfien  I  lay  on 
the  floor  in  her  hut,  while  she  poked  up  the 
fire.  She  is  a  good  soul,  although  she  is  half 
silly.  I  could  not  get  any  farther  in  that 
snowstorm;  I  would  surely  have  perished  that 
night,  if  she  had  not  taken  me  in.  A  good 
soul!" 

The  men  in  the  public-house  liked  haying) 
a  chat  with  the  German  in  the  long  evenings; 
he  knew  all  the  people  who  lived  between 
the  river  Vecht  and  the  Ems,  as  far  as  Aurich. 

Otherwise  few  people  ever  came  near  Ake's 
hut,  only  Schepers  when  he  went  to  look  at 
his  sheep,  and  the  beefarmer  when  he  took 
out  his  hives  or  brought  them  back  again 
on  his  high  cart. 

The  people  wondered  how  the  old  woman 
could  come  that  long  walk  to  the  village  and 
back  again  every  Sunday.  And  how  could 
she  do  it  again  once  every  week,  and  come 


206         AKE3   THE   MAD   WOMAN 

back  from  the  wood,  which  lay  to  the  left 
of  the  village,  carrying  a  bundle  of  sticks 
on  her  back? 


One  day,  Ake  had  gone  out  to  gather  wood 
again. 

She  came  through  the  village  carrying  the 
heavy  bundle  on  her  back,  and  she  rested 
a  moment  on  the  Square.  The  boys  had  run 
after  her  as  usual  until  she  reached  the  bridge, 
then  they  had  left  her  to  go  on  alone. 

She  was  talking  all  the  time  after  she  had 
crossed  the  bridge.  It  was  a  heavy  burden  to 
carry,  every  one  could  see  that. 

"If  only  I  were  at  the  alder-wood,"  she 
murmured.  And  she  came  to  the  alder-wood. 
There  she  rested  without  taking  the  heavy 
burden  from  her  shoulders. 

"If  only  I  were  at  the  Giants'  graves,"  she 
said  to  herself.  And  she  came  to  the  Giants' 
graves.  There  she  rested  without  taking  the 
heavy  burden  from  her  shoulders. 

"If  only  I  were  at  the  little  bridge  which 
lies  across  the  stream,"  she  said  to  herself. 
And  she  came  to  the  little  bridge  which  lay 
across  the  stream.  There  she  rested  without 
taking  the  heavy  burden  from  her  shoulders. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  207 

"If  only  I  were  at  the  quarry,"  she  said 
to  herself.  And  she  came  to  the  quarry  where 
the  stones  were  dug  out,  the  stones  which 
were  used  to  pave  the  roads.  There  she  rested 
without  taking  the  heavy  burden  from  her 
shoulders. 

But  that  was  the  last  mile-stone  on  her  road. 
Then  came  the  wide,  open  moor  without  a 
tree,  without  a  shrub,  and  w,ithout  a  stream 
or  a  bridge.  In  summer  it  was  sunny,  shadeless 
and  hot,  and  bitingly  cold  in  winter.  But  she 
carried  her  burden  from  there  to  her  hut, 
without  a  rest,  straight  on,  until  she  laid  it 
in  the  shed  behind  her  hut. 

When  she  had  put  down  her  bundle  of 
sticks,  and  walked  to  the  door  at  the  side  of 
the  house,  facing  the  West,  —  who  was  sitting 
on  the  ground  in  front  of  the  door? 

The  sun  was  just  setting.  It  shone  with 
a  red  glow  on  the  old  woodwork,  and  on 
the  thatched  roof,  and  on  the  man  who  sat 
on  the  ground  by  the  door. 

The  woman  was  never  startled. 

"Do  you  want  to  go  in  at  the  door,  Mother?" 
he  asked,  without  getting  up.  "Then  you  know 
what  you  must  do  first,  Mother!" 

And  the  old  woman  knew  what  he  expected 
her  to  do.  She  came  up  to  him,  bent  down 


2o8         AKE,   THE   MAD   WOMAN 

and  kissed  the  man  as  she  clasped  him  in 
her  stiff  arms. 

He  pulled  her  towards  him  and  let  her 
sit  on  his  knees.  And  so  those  two  people 
sat  there,  and  gazed  into  each  other's  eyes. 

"Do  they  say  that  you  are  bad,  my  boiy? 
It  is  not  true  I  For  who  ever  kissed  me  beside 
you,  Joop.  and  that  other  man  whom  I  never 
saw  again?" 

"And  do  they  say  that  you  are  mad,  Mother  ? 
It  is  not  true!  Your  eyes  are  all  right,  as 
they  always  used  to  be." 

"Could  you  not  do  without  your  little  mother 
any  longer,  Joop,  and  have  you  come  at  last? 
I  have  waited  a  long  time." 

"Oh,  Mother,  there  is  only  one  who  loves 
me;  all  the  others  have  feared  me;  but  you " 

And  the  man  kissed  his  old  mother,  again 
and  again,  as  one  kisses  a  child,  as  she  sat 
quietly  on  his  knees  on  the  ground  by  the 
door,  in  front  of  the  hut.  A  hard  crust  of 
ice  which  had  formed  round  the  lonely  woman's 
heart  began  to  melt. 

"Do  you  want  coffee,  boy?  And  do  you 
want  bread  ?  I  have  done  what  you  asked  me 
to  do;  surely  I  may  go  in  now?  Let  me  go 
now!" 

"No,  Mother,  remain  sitting;  you  are  quite 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  209 

comfortable  so,  are  you  not  ?  When  I  am 
gone  to-morrow  you  will  'have  no  one  to  love 
you  any  more." 

And  the  woman  gave  in,  she  gave  in  gladly. 

"Why  do  you  not  come  to  church,  Joop? 
I  always  watched  the  door,  thinking  you  might 
come  in.  And  you  never  came.  Every  Sunday 
I  sit  looking  at  the  door.  You  know,  Joop, 
that  is  the  place  where  your  Mother  waits 
for  you,  for  then  no  one  will  say  again  ."'  'That 
mother  has  a  wicked  son.'  But  they  will  say, 
'That  man  goes  to  church,  as  others  do.  He 
has  turned  over  a  new  leaf.'  Why  do  you 
come  here  and  not  there?" 

"Why  should  I  go  to  church  ?  Do  you  know, 
Mother,  that  if  I  wished  to  come  to  church 
the  young  men  would  crowd  together  on  the 
Square  as  if  they  were  saying:' Just  let's  have 
a  fight  now.'  They  are  brave  enough  when 
they  are  ten  against  one,  but  none  of  them 
ever  dared  fight  against  me  alone.  They  are 
frightened  when  they  stand  together  like  that, 
I  have  seen  it  in  their  eyes.  And  do  you  know, 
Mother,  that  if  I  came  to  church,  the  girls 
would  look  »at  me  ashamed  and  run  home? 
Have  I  ever  harmed  any  girls  here  besides 
Kaare,  who  is  dead,  and  Dennigje,  who  was 
afterwards  married  to  Gunter?" 


210         AKE,   THE   MAD   WOMAN 

He  did  not  mention  golden  haired  Reeze, 
for  more  than  one  reason. 

"And  perhaps  you  do  not  know,  Mother, 
that  if  I  went  to  church,  the  men  and  women 
would  stand  on  one  side,  and  that  they  would 
whisper  to  each  other:  There  is  Joop,  who 
killed  the  son  of  the  bell-ringer  on  Iken's 
buck-wheat  field.'  How  can  I  come  to  church, 
Mother!  where  all  the  people  would  like  to 
frighten  me  away  with  their  eyes,  and  where 
all  the  people  are  false  ?  For  they  are  false.  Do 
you  remember  the  great  drought  last  year? 
1  could  have  come  back  then;  they  were  all 
just  as  bad  as  I  am  then;  and  no  one  said  to 
me:  'You  are  wicked F  But  now  all  the  boys 
are  pious  again!  They  are  all  good-for-nothing, 
Mother;  I  am  better  myself  I  And  that  is  why 
I  must  not  come!" 

"I  shall  wait  for  you,  Joop,  and  every  Sunday 
I  shall  look  out  for  you.  I  shall  wait  long,  boy; 
I  waited  long  for  your  father,  and  he  never 
came,  but  I  shall  wait  longer  for  you!" 

"How  can  I  be  good,  Mother?  When  I 
was  at  school  I  said:  'Now,  I  shall  try  and 
please  the  master  to-day.'  And  when  I  came 
out  of  school  I  had  behaved  badly  once  more. 
Sometimes,  when  I  went  to  the  moor,  I  said: 
*-I  shall  not  snare  any  more  hares.1  But  when 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  211 

evening  came,  I  went  out  in  the  moonlight 
to  set  the  traps.  It  is  so  beautiful  when  the 
hares  play  in  the  moonlight,  Mother !  Sometimes 
when  I  had  dug  out  rabbits,  I  would  say:  'I 
shall  throw  them  away  when  I  see  the  police- 
man.' But  just  that  day  I  had  fought  with  him. 
When  I  went  to  the  village  on  an  afternoon 
I  would  say:  'I  shall  not  stand  talking  at 
Sieds*  stable  near  the  public-house  about  his 
horse.'  But  when  I  came  home  in  the -evening 
I  was  drunk  again.  How  can  I  be  good, 
Mother?  When  I  killed  the  bell-ringetr's  son, 
—  for  you  know  as  well  as  I  do,  Mother,  that 
I  did  it,  —  I  had  said  to  him  the  day  before: 
'Look  here,  Ruurd,  do  not  laugh  at  me,  when 
we  meet  each  other.  1  shall  let  you  have  the 
girl,  although  I  could  easily  break  your  ribs 
for  you,  man;  but  if  you  do  not  laugh  at  me, 
I  will  leave  you  alone.'  And  early  next  day 
when  I  met  him  at  Iken's  buck-wheat  field, 
he  laughed  after  all.  I  had  to  kill  him!  How 
can  I  be  good,  Mother?" 

"But  you  are  good  now,  my  little  boy!  You 
are  good  torday;  have  you  not  let  me  sit 
on  your  knee?  And  have  you  not  kissed  me, 
as  good  boys  kiss  their  mothers?" 

"Yes  Mother,  but  how  can  I  know  what 
I  shall  do  to-night,  or  what  I  shall  do  to- 


212        AKE,  THE   MAD   WOMAN 

morrow?  Have  I  not  often  come  back  to  you 
in  this  way?  And  was  the  sun  not  setting-,  as 
it  is  now,  while  you  sat  on  my  knee  ?  And  did 
I  not  go  away  next  morning  to  the  big  town 
where  there  are  so  many  such  as  I  am  ?  Mother, 
mother,  I  must  be  what  I  am!" 

And  reluctantly  he  put  the  old  woman  down; 
he  did  it  gently,  but  with  a  firm  hand. 

And  he  got  up,  stretching  himself  to  his 
full  length;  gazing,  with  clenched  fists,  in  the 
direction  of  the  village,  where  all  those  people 
lived  who  had  not  been  predestined  at  their 
birth  to  do  evil,  as  he  had  been. 

"Give   me   some   coffee,   mother,"   he  said. 

And  they  went  inside,  crazy  Ake  and  her 
son,  the  vagabond. 

When  Ake  woke  up  early  next  morning, 
—  it  was  before  sunrise,  —  she  was  lying  on 
the  floor  beside  her  bed. 

She  tried  to  collect  her  thoughts.  How  was 
it  that  she  was  tying  on  the  floor? 

She  looked  at  her  bed.  Some  one  had  Iain 
there!  But  why  had  she  not  slept  in  it*  herself 
then  ?  She  could  not  understand.  Who  had  beeto 
there  ? 

And  on  the  table  she  saw  a  loaf  of  bread, 
and  the  coffee-can,  and  cups,  which  had  not 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  213 

been  washed  the  evening  before.  Cups?  And 
she  always  used  only  one  cup?  Whose  was 
that  other  cup,  then?  Had  she  had  a  visitor, 
she  who  never  had  one  ?  The  last  time  she  had 
had  a  visitor  was  when  her  son  came  one 
night,  two  years  ago.  She  had  let  him  sleep 
in  her  own  bed  then,  she  herself  had  lain 
on  the  floor. 

By  degrees  her  head  became  clearer.  Had 
he  come  again  last  night,  then?  She  tried  to 
think  and  went  on  gazing  at  the  bed. 

But  it  came  back  to  her,  all  about  Joop 
and  what  had  happened  the  evening  before. 
And  her  warm  mother's  heart  still  beat  faster 
at  a  vague  and  happy  memory,  —  a  memory 
of  an  embrace  and  a  kiss.  She  was  an  old 
woman,  very  old;  but,  for  that  embrace,  she 
.would  willingly  have  given  up  a  few  years  of 
her  life  as  often  as  she  could  get  it. 

Had  Joop  got  up  in  the  night  then,  long 
before  daybreak,  as  he  had  done  before?  And 
had  he  stolen  away  quietly,  as  he  had  done 
before  ? 

She  could  not  find  out  whether  or  not  it 
had  really  taken  place.  "People  say  I  am  mad," 
she  murmured;  "how  then  can  I  know  if  he 
has  been  here?" 

She   was   clear   enough   to   notice  that  the 


214        AKE,   THE   MAD   WOMAN 

drawer  of  her  cupboard  was  open;  in  it  she 
kept  the  few  guilders  which  she  had  saved; 
and  she  knew  that,  if  she  looked,  she  could  be 
sure  whether  he  had  been  or  not.  She  could 
know  it  by  the  money.  And  why  then  did  she 
not  go  to  the  cupboard?  And  why  then  did 
she  look  at  that  cupboard  with  eyes  averted, 
as  one  who  does  not  wish  to  know  the  worst? 

All  that  day  she  pondered  the  great  question 
wearily.  Had  he  been  or  had  he  not  been? 
And  when  the  evening  fell  she  did  not  know 
yet.  Next  morning  it  was  still  more  difficult  to 
find  out. 

And  soon  the  incident  became  as  hazy  as 
all  the  other  memories  of  her  life.  Ake  was 
just  as  mad  as  ever. 

"That  woman  is  not  mad,"  Schepers  said 
to  Senserff  one  day. 

They  were  on  their  way  to  visit  her,  and 
they  were  standing  on  the  little  bridge  which 
lay  across  the  stream  which  severed  the  pine>- 
woods  from  the  moor,  that  little  bridge  where 
Ake  always  rested,  with  the  bundle  of  sticks 
on  her  back. 

In  front  of  them  lay  the  huge,  boundless 
expanse  of  sunny  moorland,  and  in  the  distance 
they  could  discern  Ake's  hut.  The  minister 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  215 

and  the  elder  had  been  confronted  with 
the  question  whether  or  not  to  visit  Ake. 
For  every  one  knew  that  she  was  mad,  and 
they  surely  could  not;  include  her  in  the  invita- 
tion to  partake  of  the  Holy  Communion,  which 
was  to  be  celebrated  in  church  next  Sunday, 
and  which  they  were  announcing  to  the  parish- 
ionejrs.. 

But:  "That  woman  is  not  mad!"  Schepers 
had  said  to  Senserff  at  last.  "I  have  often 
been  to  see  her  when  I  went  towards  the 
East  to  see  my  sheep  at  the  marsh.  Who  can 
say  that  she  is  not  quite  sensible?  For  which 
of  the  villagers  has  ever  spoken  to  her?  I 
am  the  only  one  iwho  has  ever  been  to  see 
her;  and  she  has  always  received  me  warmly; 
she  gave  me  water  to  quench  my  thirst,  arid 
in  "winter  she  placed  a  chair  for  me  by  the 
fire  and  threw  on  an  extra  log  of  wood,  so 
that  I  might  warm  my  numb  feet.  Have  you 
ever  spoken  to  her,  sir?" 

"No,  Schepers;  she  has  only  been  at  my 
house  once,  that  was  when  she  joined  our 
church,  and  do  you  not  remember  how  the 
members  of  the  Reformed  Church  envied  us 
for  that?  I  have  never  met  her  since 
then." 

"Let  u!s  go  then,  sir,"  Schepers  said. 


216        AKE,   THE   MAD   WOMAN 

invitation  may  not  be  withheld  from  any  one 
.who  is  not  under  censure." 

Senserff  yielded  to  this  argument.  And  an 
hour  later  the  two  men  stood  at  the  door  of 
Ake's  hut. 

"Come  in,  sir;  come  in,  Schepers,"  the 
woman  said. 

She  held  the  door  open  as  they  came  in,  and 
gave  them  chairs,  as  was  customary.  She 
herself  remained  standing  by  the  chair  at  the 
bed-side.  The  two  men  glanced  at  each  other. 
There  was  nothing  wanting  in  this  reception. 

"Ake,"  the  minister  began,  —  for  he  never 
beat  about  the  bush,  —  "Ake,  I  have  come; 
to  invite  you  to  partake  of  Holy  Communion 
next  Sunday." 

Schepers  watched  the  woman's  face  closely: 
there  was  reverence,  great  reverence  in  her 
honest  eyes. 

"How  can  you  invite  me?"  she  answered. 
"Surely  you  know  what  manner  of  woman 
I  am?" 

"What  manner  of  woman  I  am  ?"  Schepers 
repeated;  "that  is  not  an  expression  which 
is  used  by  the  people  here,  Ake.  Did  you 
find  it  in  the  Bible,  Ake?"  And  Sensefff, 
slower  than  his  elder,  remembered  how 
the  mad  woman  used  the  word  that  the 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  217 

Pharisees  had  used  to  Jesus  in  connection  with 
a  similar  woman. 

Afce  did  not  answer  the  question,  but 
continued:  "Do  you  not  know!  that  I  have  a 
son,  who  is  the  disgrace  of  the  village?  And 
how  could  I  hold  up  my  head  in  church,  and 
sit  at  the  Lord's  ta,ble  with  those  women  who 
need  not  be  ashamed  of  their  sons?" 

She  spoke  as  a.  sensible  woman;  and 
Senserff  braced  himself  up  to  answer  her 
sensibly  too.  "The  sins  of  a  child  need  not 
prevent  any  one  from  coming  to  the  Lord's 
supper,  woman!  Let  every  man's  sins  be  on 
his  own  head!  We  do  not  invite  your  son, 
but  you!" 

"Shall  each  man's  sins  be  on  his  own  head, 
sir?  Oh,  I  am  glad!  for  then  my  sins  shall  be 
upon  my  own  head,  and  not  on  my  child's 
head  1  Is  it  his  faiult  that  he  is  as  he  is  ?  Am)  I 
not  his  mother?"  she  said  hotly. 

And  the  elder  glanced  at  Senserff,  and  his 
look  said  quite  plainly:  "Have  I  not  told  you 
that  she  is  not  mad?" 

"Who  says  here  that  my  son  is  at  fault? 
Every  mother  shall  bear  the  guilt  of  her 
children  on  her  own  head;"  she  went  on 
quickly. 

"But    every    father    too,   surely?"   Senserff 


218        AKE,   THE   MAD   WOMAN 

ventured  to  add.  It  was  a  curious  thing  to 
be  arguing  this  question  with  a  mad  woman, 
and  he  made  up  his  mind  to  drop  the  subject. 
It  was  a  subject  to  be  discussed  at  the  meeting 
of  Classis*),  but  here?  It  seemed  to  him  that 
he  was  almost  mad  himself. 

But  the  woman  did  not  give  him  much  time 
to  think. 

"That  man . . .  also ...  I  suppose,"  she  said 
gently,  and  with  some  hesitation,  as  if  she 
were  giving  in,  but  reluctantly.  "But . . .  who 
knows  the  way  of  a  man  into  a  woman's 
heart?  The  man  does  not  know,  neither  does 
the  woman.  If  that  heart  were  not  open,  he 
would  never  get  in.  Who  can  give  the  fault 
to  the  man?" 

She  was  silent  for  some  time,  wrapped  in 
thought.  The  elder  was  astonished;  how 
did  .this  woman  know  the  Scriptures  so 
well  that  she  quoted  words  not  known  to  many  ? 

"I  also  know  those  words  in  the  Bible, 
woman,"  Senserff  said,  and  he  quoted  under 
his  breath,  almost  as  if  he  were  reading  aloud : 
'The  words  of  Agur,  the  son  of  Jakeh:  There 
be  three  things  which  are  too  .wonderful  for 
me,  yea,  four  which  I  know  not:  the  way  of 


*)    A  meeting  of  Ministers. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  219 

an  eagle  in  the  air;  the  way  of  a  serpient  upon 
a  rock;  the  way  of  a  ship  in  the  midst  of  the 
sea;  and  the  way  of  a  man  with  a  maid." 

Instinctively  Schepers  looked  round  the  hut 
to  see  where  the  woman's  Bible  lay. 

"There  is  the  Bible/*  she  said,  as  one  who 
understands  everything ;  "but  it  is  long  ago  that 
I  read  it.  I  have  found  everything  with  any 
reference  to  me  years  ago.  Your  curse  is  upjon 
me,  my  son!" 

The  two  men  did  not  know  what  to  say. 

"1  will  tell  you  about  it,  sir,"  she  continued, 
and  she  hurried  on  as  if  she  were  afraid 
that  afterwards  the  old  haze  would  come  again 
over  her  thinking,  and  as  if  she  wished  to  be 
quite  clear  as  she  made  her  confession.  "I 
will  tell  you,  sir.  Schepers  may  hear  it  too, 
although  he  will  not  understand;  far  he  has 
never  been  married.  What  does  he  know  about 
a  woman's  passion?  You  see,  sir,"  —  and 
she  was  not  looking  at  Schepiers  any  more, 
and  seemed  to  be  spjeaking  to  the  minister 
only  —  "if  there  is  love,  then  the  way  of  a  man 
to  a  maid's  heart  is  an  easy  one.  She  will 
sacrifice  herself,  and  give  him  all.  No  one  but 
a  woman  knows  what  a  woman  will  do  for 
the  man  she  loves.  When  that  German,  that 
wild,  tall  German,  came  to  see  me,  then  my 


220        AKE,   THE   MAD   WOMAN 

heart  was  as  wild  and  young  as  his.  Why  then 
should  he  be  more  to  be  blamed  than  I  am? 
Did  he  attract  me,  or  I  him?  If  he  stayed 
away  for  a  week  it  was  I  who  said:  "Why 
did  you  not  come?"  If  he  went  away  towards 
the  evening,  it  was  I  who  said:  "Stay."  If 
He  took  me  in  his  arms,  it  was  I  who  could 
not  let  go.  If  a  woman  really  wishes  it,  a 
man  will  not  look  at  her  longer  than  she 
desires;  she  can  force  him  never  to  come 
back  again.  Is  not  the  curse  upon  me,  upon 
me  ?"  And  she  would  have  gone  on  passionately. 

But  Senserff  stretched  forth  his  hand  and 
said:  "Be  quiet,  Ake,  I  know  all  about  that1!" 

"I  have  repented,  sir,  —  for  I  should  have 
liked  the  curse  to  depart  frpm  me.  I  should 
have  liked  it  for  my  slon's  sake,  not  for  my 
own;  for  a  woman  such  as  I  am  would  have 
committed  the  same  sin  again  and  again;  I 
still  love  that  man.  But  for  my  son's  sake 
I  hoped  that  the  curse  would  be  taken  from 
me;  I  might  have  known  that  he  would  do 
badly,  on  my  account;  the  mother's  guilt  is 
upon  the  children  unto  the  third  and  fourth 
generation;  I  wanted  to  exonerate  my  child 
from  that  guilt.  And  my  penalty  was  this. 
I  Sought  in  the  Bible  all  the  texts  with  reference 
to  such  a  woman  as  I  am;  I  started  on  the 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  221 

first  page  and  went  on  to  the  last  page.  And 
I  said  time  upon  time,  as  my  eyes  fell  upon 
a  curse,  that  is  against  me.  Thine  anger  is 
righteous,  oh  Lord!  Good  women  need  not 
do  that,  sir;  let  them  read  the  blessings  and 
hold  up  their  heads.  Every  text  of  that  sojrt 
was  like  a  burning  coal  in  my  hand,  but 
I  did  not  drop  it  out  of  my  hand.  Every 
text  was  like  a  heap  of  coals  om  my  head, 
but  I  did  not  shake  them  off  from  my  head ;  I 
let  them  lie  there;  they  burned  my  head  right 
through,  up  to  where  the  brains  are.  No,  one 
but  crazy  Ake  has  ever  known  that  pain.  All 
these  texts  were  flames,  flames  that  surrounded 
me.  I  have  walked  among  flames,  but  I  did. 
not  beat  them  off  with  my  hands.  Who  in 
the  village  ever  knew  that  crazy  Ake  walked 
among  flames  as  she  went  by?" 

Here  the  poor  soul  paused  for  a  long  time. 

But  she  continued  at  last. 

"I  have  done  penance,  sir,  and  it  was  this. 
I  would  not  evade  the  disgrace  of  the  chris- 
tening; for,  if  it  were  possible,  I  wished  my 
boy  to  be  no  different  to  other  children.  But 
the  difference  began  when  the  child  was  held 
to  the  font  without  a  father;  I  could  not 
take  away  that  difference;  a,nd  that  difference 
has  been  there  until  this  day.  That  difference 


222         AKE,   THE   MAD   WOMAN 

was  there  when  he  went  to  school;  he  noticed 
it  himself  on  the  play-ground,  and  afterwards 
on  the  Square,  where  the  men  come  together 
in  the  evenings  to  talk;  and  he  felt  it  when  he 
came  home.  That  boy  never  asked  me  about 
his  father,  for  he  was  good  to  me. 

"I  have  done  penance,  and  it  was  in  this 
way,"  she  went  on:  "I  have  not  talked  to 
any  of  the  people,  men  or  women;  I  have 
lived  in  silence.  I  have  not  complained  to 
any  one  and  have  asked  no  one  for  advice 
or  help.  I  went  my  way  alone.  When  at  night 
I  could  not  sleep,  and  tore  my  hair  in  agony, 
I  would  cry:  'It  is  right,  oh  Lord!'  When 
I  walked  across  the  moor,  where  the  marsh 
fe,  and  put  my  foot  in  the  water,  I  said:  'It 
is  right  that  I  should  suffer,  oh  Lordl'  and 
I  pulled  my  foot  out  of  the  marsh.  When  I 
walked  across  the  market  to  church  and  shame 
whispered  in  my  ear:  'Do  not  go  to  church 
afliy  more,  they  all  look  down  upon  ,yo!u!' 
I  said:  'It  is  right,  Lord,  that  I  should  walk 
on  the  other  side  of  the  road.'  Foir  forty  years 
I  have  said:  'It  is  right,  Lord,'  to  whatever 
I  felt  and  whenever  the  boys  injured  me  when 
they  followed  me  through  the  village  and  up 
to  the  bridge." 

"I  have  done  penance,  until  I  did  not  know 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  223 

what  else  to  do.  But  the  guilt  remained,  the 
guilt  never  left  me;  it  was  as  if  my  heart 
contracted  with  it,  and  always  the  coals  burned 
on  my  head,  until  they  reached  the  brains. 
And  I  shall  do  penance  until  He,  Whose  name 
I  have  never  mentioned  in  all  these  years, 
shall  say:  'Depart  from  me,  thou  accursed 
one,  into  the  eternal  fireP  Oh,  my  son!  my 
son!  I  have  said:  thy  curse  be  upon  me!  and 
that  curse  is  upon  me!" 

"But  sir,"  —  and,  with  a  sudden  movement 
she  drew  herself  up  to  her  full  height  as  she 
asked,  —  "now  my  son  is  free,  is  he  not,  from 
the  judgment  which  his  mother  brought  upon 
him?" 

Senserff  fought  a  fierce  struggle  between  his 
Christian  doctrines  and  his  pitying  heart,  and 
would  have  liked  to  avoid  answering  the 
question.  Schepers  also  was  watching  him, 

He  wished  to  avoid  the  answer,  —  at  a 
meeting  of  Classis  he  would  not  have  hesitated 
for  one  moment,  and  he  would  have  pointed 
out  sharply  that,  "no  mere  creature  .can  bear 
the  burden  of  God's  anger  against  sin,  and  so 
save  other  creatures  from  it."  He  answered 
evasively :  "But  Ake,  —  why  did  this  man 
not  marry  you;  why  did  he  leave  you  alone?" 

Suddenly  her  eyes  looked  vacant,  as  if  she 


224         AKE,   THE    MAD   WOMAN 

were  gazing  into  space.  As  one  in  a  dream 
she  repeated  the  words :  "Yes,  why . . .  has . . . 
he...  left  me?" 

But  then,  all  at  once,  with  a  cry,  the  woman 
threw  up  her  arms ;  a  Mildness  which  had  been 
pent  up  for  long  years  seemed  to  break  loose; 
and  she  shrieked  with  the  same  despair  as  she 
had  done  in  the  beginning,  when  she  had  under- 
stood for  the  first  time  that  he  had  deserted 
her;  she  shrieked  as  if  she  were  raving. 

Schepers  jumped  up  from  his  chair  and 
wanted  to  make  for  the  door. 

But  Senserff  held  his  arm,  and  said :  "Do 
not  be  afraid,  Schepers;  that  fury  is  only  a 
fury  against  herself!"  And  he  made  the  elder 
sit  down  again. 

"If  you  have  never  before  seen  any  one 
possessed  of  the  devil,  you  must  see  it  now," 
Senserff  said.  And  indeed,  they  saw  some- 
thing very  like  it. 

There  the  woman  lay  on  the  ground, 
hideously  ugly.  She  pulled  out  the  little  hair 
she  had:  she  tore  the  few  clothes  she  wore  to 
pieces,  so  that  her  thin  limbs  were  shown; 
the  men  saw  deep  scars  on  the  breast,  as  o£ 
old  arid  new  wounds  caused  by  fingej  nails, 
sharp  finger  nails;  even  now  she  was  tearing 
the  flesh  with  her  nails.  The  woman  rolled 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  225 

round  and  round;  one  moment  she  was  lying 
on  her  back,  the  next,  face  downwards;  she 
tried  to  gnaw  the  sand  on  the  floor  with  her 
toothless  gums;  her  mouth  was  foaming;  she 
tried  to  get  up,  but  failed  again  and  again; 
there  were  wounds  on  her  head  and  on  her 
hands,  caused  by  falling;  and  the  cupboard 
and  the  fireplace  were  stained  with  blood. 

The  two  men  jumped  up  with  a.  start; 
Senserff  took  hold  of  the  mad  woman  with 
iron  grip;  he  lifted  her  up  as  if  she  were 
a  child,  and  laid  her  down  on  the  bed,  not 
letting  her  go  for  a  long  time,  until  the  poor 
creature,  who  had  been  shaking  convulsively, 
seemed  to  come  to  rest;  the  relaxation  which 
followed  was  like  death. 

He  remained  sitting  at  the  bed-side  for  a 
considerable  time,  until  at  last  he  said  to 
his  elder:  "We  can  go  outside,  Schepers;  she 
is  asleep." 

When  they  were  outside  they  sat  down  on 
the  rim  of  the  well. 

"We  shall  never  know  why  he  deserted  her, 
man ;  I  shall  not  dare  to  ask  her  a  second  time." 

Schepers  was  silent ;  the  pallor  on  his  cheeks 
was  death-like. 

"Were  you  afraid  of  the  devil?"  Senserff 
enquired,  with  a  curious  laugh. 

11 


226        AKE,  THE   MAD  WOMAN 

"No,  sir,  it  is  not  that,"  he  admitted,  "but 
I  tremble  because  I  feel  now  what  the  Lord 
meant  when  He  said:  'He  that  is  without  sin 
among  you,  let  him  cast  the  first  stone  at 
her  I*  But  why  do  you  laugh?  Do  you  not 
believe  that  the  Evil  One  is  at  work  here?" 

"What  would  the  bee-farmer  have  said,  if 
he  had  been  present?" 

"The  bee-termer  would  say:  'That  is  the 
devil,  and  this  woman  is  damned'." 

"And   what  would   you   say?" 

"I  should  say:  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit, 
for...." 

"Finish  it,  Schepers;  do  not  hesitate  to  say 
it,  for  I  believe  it,  too . . .  theirs  is  the  kingdom 
of  heaven." 

That  evening  Schepers  went  home,  and  the 
minister  remained  in  the  hut  with  the  sleeping 
woman  until  the  dawn  of  day. 

For  those  two  men  there  was  nothing  unusual 
about  the  whole  thing,  but  both  of  them, 
minister  and  elder,  agreed  that  this  mad 
woman  was  not  far  from,  but  very  near, 
the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

Wiegen,  the  Dreamer,  had  known  for  long 
that  she  was  a  member  of  his  Church. 

When  during  the  next  winter,  Ake  died,  no 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  227 

one  but  Schepers  could  say  that  he  had  been 
present  at  that   death-bed. 

He  was  very  sparing  of  his  words  when 
anyone  questioned  him  about  it. 

But  everyone  knew  that  it  was  on  a  dark 
night,  in  a  snowstorm,  that  Schepers  had  gone 
to  her. 

Asmus,  the  German  merchant,  who  had  come 
past  her  hut,  had  spread  the  report  that  the 
woman  was  dying.  "Catch  me  spending  a  night 
alone  with  a  mad  and  dying  woman,"  he 
had  said;  "I  took  good  care  to  be  here  before 
the  snowstorm."  But  Schepers  got  up  at  once 
from  his  evening  meal  when  his  servant  girl 
told  him  what  the  German  had  sai.d  at  the  inn. 

"This  is  not  a  night  for  the  minister  to 
be  out!"  he  had  muttered,  and  he  had  gone 
outside  with  his  dog.  "Sipie,  come  here  I" 
he  had  called,  and  he  had  taken  the  dog  on 
a  string,  to  make  sure  that  he  would  not  miss 
the  road  out  in  the  dark  night  in  the  snow. 

But  no  one  ever  heard  what  happened 
afterwards,  out  on  the  moor,  in  that  lonely 
hut,  at  that  death-bed.  Schepers  could  be 
silent  if  he  liked. 

"Even  a  mad  woman  may  not  be  allowed 
to  die  with  none  of  those  who  have  been 
appointed  by  the  community  for  that  purpose 


228        AKE,   THE   MAD   WOMAN 

present  to  make  her  death-bed  easier.  The 
other  Church  shall  not  say  that  we,  elders, 
neglect  the  poor  and  the  little  ones."  Not 
very  much  more  than  that  ever  leaked 
out,  and  by  degrees  the  general  opinion  was 
that  nothing  special  could  have  occurred  at 
that  death-bed. 

Only,  Schepers  objected  to  the  pulling  down 
of  Ake's  hut,  when  such  a  proposal  was  made 
in  the  parish  council.  "The  woman  expressed 
a  wish  that  the  hut  should  remain  standing 
as  it  is,"  he  said>  "there  is  a  son  who  might 
come  back." 

And  the  hut  was  left  standing  there,  in 
the  wind  and  rain,  and  it  went  to  rack  and 
ruin.  Sometimes  the  shepherd  boy  took  a 
drink  of  water  from  the  well.  And  now  and 
then  a  hare  would  run  past,  close  to  the  door. 
And  a  hawk  would  sit  perched  on  the  falling1 
roof.  But  that  was  all.  How  long  could  that 
hut  stand  there? 


VII 
ILTING,  THE  BELL-RINGER 

Ilting  was  not  so  very  old  yet;  but  he  was 
such  a  shrivelled>-up  little  man  that  people 
who  did  not  know  him  often  thought  he  wag 
quite  seventy.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  was 
nearer  sixty. 

As  he  stood  beside  the  minister  in  the  vestry 
before  the  sermon,  when  he  came  to  fetch  the 
hymn  sheet  for  the  organist,  he  only  reached 
up  to  Walter's  shoulders.  It  must  be  admitted 
that  Walter  was  very  tall,  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  Ilting  was  particularly  small. 

And  as  he  was  very  thin  and  had  a  small 
face  and  absolutely  grey  hair,  people  often 
thought  he  was  older  than  he  really  was.  Also, 
few  of  the  villagers  had  ever  known  another 
bell-ringer  in  Eastloorn;  he  had  held  that 
post  for  forty  years,  and  so  he  might  well 
be  reckoned  among  the  old  men  in  the  village. 

"But   look    here,"    Ilting   would   sometimes 


230      ILTING,  THE  BELL-RINGER 

say  to  the  elders;  "there  is  Ake,  who  is 
much  older  than  I ;  and  the  baker's  widow, 
Mrs.  Goestel;  and  you  yourself,  Kremar,  you 
are  four  years  older  than  I  am.  Do  you 
remember  that  when  we  were  at  school 
together  you  were  two  forms  higher  than  I 
was  ?  And  you,  Wendel,  did  you  not  always 
defend  me  against  the  other  boys  at  school, 
because  I  was  so  small  and  you  so  much 
older?" 

And  so  a  conversation  about  their  boyhood 
was  often  started  in  the  vestry,  to  which  Walter 
liked  to  listen.  These  old  men  never  forgot 
the  days  of  their  youth;  and  there  was  very 
little  belonging  to  that  time  of  which  they 
needed  to  feel  ashamed. 

Ilting  was  the  bell-ringer  of  the  Reformed 
Church.  The  other  church  had  not  got  a 
bell  yet. 

"When  shall  we  have  one?"  the  deacons 
would  sometimes  say ;  4iwe  should  have  one  too." 
Upon  which  Senserff  always  answered:  "Oh, 
a  bell  is  to  be  got;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that 
we  shall  have  one  some  day;  but  that  would 
not  give  us  Ilting!"  They  would  have  liked 
him  to  join  their  Church;  for  they  knew  he 
was  a  good  sort;  but  Ilting  had  refused  to 
break  away  from  the  Reformed  Church. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  231 

"No,  no,"  he  had  said  to  Schepers,  when 
he  spoke  to  him  about  the  matter,  "I  am  not 
going  to  do  it!"  And  that  was  all,  he  did  not 
give  any  reasons. 

But  in  the  evening  he  had  remarked  to 
his  wife:  "Schepers  wanted  to  persuade  me 
to  join  them,  but  what  would  I  do  in  the  other 
church?  I  have  pulled  the  rope  here  for  forty 
years,  and  I  could  not  bear  to  see  another 
man  standing  in  my  place  on  Sundays. 
Besides  that,  the  doctrine  which  Walter 
teaches  us  is  no  worse  than  Senserff's  was  I 
Why  should  I  hand  over  the  bell-rope  to 
another  man?"  And  his  wife  thought  he  was 
quite  right  in  his  judgment. 

Those  who  knew  him  well  were  wont  to 
say  that  his  very  soul  was  in  the  bell. 

After  Walter  had  been  in  Eastloorn  a  short 
time  he  had  sent  for  Ilting  one  day.  For  Ilting 
was  verger  too. 

"Listen,  my  friend,"  Walter  had  said,  "I 
do  not  know  everything  yet;  you  must  give 
me  some  information,  for  you,  being  the  verger, 
are  just  the  man  for  that.  For  instance,  about 
the  christening.  Next  Sunday  there  is  a 
christening  service,  and  I  want  to  know 
whether  it  is  the  custom  for  the  parents  of 


232      ILTING,  THE  BELL-RINGER 

the  child  to  give  notice  at  my  house  on  Saturday 
evenings  ?  And  tell  me,  will  you,  are  there  free 
seats  in  church,  and,  if  so,  have  they  all 
been  taken?"  And  Walter  asked  him  many 
more  questions. 

It  was  an  important  moment  in  the  little 
verger's  life,  he  giving  information  to  the 
minister!  "That  is  a  man  after  my  own  heart!" 
he  had  remarked  to  his  wife  in  the  evening. 
"I  assure  you  he  takes  things  seriously  and 
wishes  to  know  the  ropes!  Look  at  Senserff 
now,  he  never  asked  me  such  questions. 
I  suppose  he  found  it  all  out  by  himself,  or 
perhaps  he  learned  it  from  the  professor  who 
taught  him!  But  this  one  wants  to  learn  from 
me!  And  I  have  helped  him!  Mark  my  words, 
he  will  not  make  any  mistakes,  although  he  is 
just  starting!" 

On  that  same  occasion,  Walter,  who  often 
had  strange  ideas  for  which  he  could  not 
account,  asked  him  suddenly:  "Ilting,  I  hear 
you  have  been  bell-ringer  here  for  such  a 
long  time;  are  you  not  tired  of  pulling  that 
rope  for  thirty  or  forty  years  ?" 

Ilting  had  seldom  looked  more  astonished 
in  his  life.  For  one  moment  he  looked; 
confused,  as  some  one  would  to  whom  it 
has  been  said:  "What  a  poor  job  you  have! 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  233 

Have  you  never  been  able  to  do  better 
than  that?" 

Then  he  pulled  himself  together,  and  his 
answer  was  like  that  of  an  old  man  reproving 
a  boy. 

"Sir,"  he  had  said,  "I  wonder  what  you 
would  say  if  some  one  tried  to  make  out 
that  you  do  not  really  love  your  profession 
as  a  minister,  but  that  you  had  only  chosen 
it  as  a  job,  to  earn  money?" 

"Then  I  should  say  that  he  was  mistaken, 
and  I  should  prove  it  by  telling  him  how  much 
my  stipend  is,"  Walter  said,  laughingly;  "and 
he  who  still  maintained  that  I  did  it  for  the 
pay  I  should  call  an  ass  to  his  facef" 

"Sir,  how  can  you  think  then  that  I  could 
get  tired  of  pulling  the  rope?  Do  you  know1 
how  it  is?  Look  here:  when  a  man  has  just 
become  a  minister " 

"A  bell-ringer,"  Walter  corrected. 

"No,  I  say  what  I  mean!"  Ilting  said.  "When 
a  man  becomes  a  minister  he  starts  frill  of 
courage  and  with  great  expectations.  He 
preaches  his  sermon  as  if  it  would  be  a  joy 
for  him  every  Sunday  of  his  life.  But,  after 
this  has  gone  on  for  some  years,  he  begins 
to  feel  as  if  he  has  said  all  he  had  to  say.  And 
then  he  sits  in  his  study,  thinking1:  'What 


234      ILTING,  THE   BELL-RINGER 

on  earth  must  I  say  to  the  people?  I  have 
said  it  all,  and  some  things  I  have  told  them 
twicel1  That  is  a  hard  time  for  a  minister. 
But  after  he  has  passed  through  that  difficult 
stage,  if  he  is  the  right  man  for  his  calling, 
his  sermons  will  get  more  depth.  Some  ministers 
get  it  by  loosing  a  child.  Other  ministers  get 
it  by  having  to  endure  opposition  from  their 
own  congregation.  Others  by  being  very  poor, 
and  not  knowing  how  to  make  both  ends  meet, 
and  still  remaining  honest  men.  But  in  any 
case  they  get  it  by  coming  through  a  great 
sorrow;  never  without  that.  But  the  depth  in  the 
nature  comes,  and  then  only  are  they  able  to 
preach  a  sermon  as  they  never  did  before. 
And  only  then  do  they  beigin  to  love  their 
office  bette<r  than  they  ever  thought  they 
could.  And,  well,  you  had  better  not  ask  a 
minister  of  that  sort  whether  he  gets  tired  of 
preaching  Sunday  after  Sunday.  What  do  you 
think  he  would  answer  you?" 

"How  do  you  know  all  that,  Ilting?"  Walter 
asked,  now  quite  seriously.  For  Walter  had 
been  one  of  those  who  had  often  wondered 
what  he  should  find  to  say  after  he  had  been 
in  the  pulpit  for  several  years.  And  this  had 
become  a  source  of  great  anxiety  to  him,  and 
he  knew  that  it  would  be  even  more  so  later  on. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  235 

"How  do  I  know  that,  sir?"  Ilting  said.  "Do 
you  think  we,  who  sit  in  the  pews  and  watch 
you  while  you  are  speaking,  do  not  hear  that? 
So  many  ministers  have  preached  here;  when 
the  old  minister  was  ill,  and  afterwards,  when 
the  old  man  was  dead,  and  the  ministers  of 
the  district  came  in  turns,  we  had  all  sorts 
and  conditions.  But  do  you  think  we  could  not 
hear  who  had  come  through  the  great  sorrow 
and  who  had  not?" 

Walter  was  very  grave  now:  "And  what 
about  me?  Must  I  also  still  come  through  the 
great  sorrow?" 

The  little  verger  looked  at  his  minister  with 
frank  and  honest  eyes,  and  gathering  together 
all  his  courage,  he  said:  "Yes,  sir!" 

Walter  would  have  liked  to  shake  hands 
with  the  old  man,  but  he  was  afraid  of  any 
affectation,  so  he  restrained  himself.  A  brave 
feeling  came  over  him,  as  if  he  hoped  that  the 
great  sorrow  might  come  soon;  for  he  wanted 
to  be  a  good  minister. 

"But,  sir,  I  have  not  finished  yet."  the  bell- 
ringer  resumed.  "All  I  said  about  a  minister 
applies  to  a  bell-ringer  as  well,  in  a  small  way. 
When  we  start  ringing  the  church-bell  shortly 
after  our  appointment,  we  do  it  with  a  be- 
ginner's zeal.  We  are  delighted  with  our 


2536      ILTING,  THE  BELL-RINGER 

appointment  and  with  the  extra  pay  in  con- 
nection with  it.  And  we  give  the  rope  a  good 
tug  and  let  it  shoot  high  up  into  the  air. 
I  admit  that's  the  way,  you  see!  But  after  we 
have  done  it  for  a  short  time,  the  novelty 
of  the  thing  begins  to  wear  off.  We  forget  ail 
about  the  extra  pay  connected  with  it,  and 
we  forget  that  twenty  others  applied  for  the 
post  at  the  same  time  as  we  did.  And  then  our 
arms  go  up  wearily  and  come  dx>wn  without 
an  effort;  how  can  the  ringing  be  good  then? 
The  people  can  hear  by  the  ringing  for  how 
many  years  a  bell-ringer  has  been  in  the 
service.  Do  you  not  think  so,  sir  ? ...  And 
then  in  later  years  the  depth  comes.  A  man's 
soul  is  in  the  bell.  People  say  it  about  me,  and 
they  may  laugih;  but  it  is  quite  true!  When  I 
am  busy  nowadays  I  know  what  I  am  doing, 
Oh,  the  happiness  of  saying  to  the  people  on 
Sundays :  'Stop  working,  and  lay  aside  all  care, 
and  come  to  church,  for  the  minister  wants 
to  tell  you  what  God  has  given  to  the 
world'  f" 

"Did  you  have  to  come  through  the  great 
sorrow  too,  Ilting,  before  there  was  depth  in 
your  ringing?" 

The  little  man  did  not  answer.  Walter  under- 
stood, and  asked  again. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  237 

"Tell  me,   Ilting,   what  was  your  sorrow?" 

But  the  little  man  did  not  answer. 

Then  Walter  was  silent  too. 

The  minister  and  his  verger  often  conversed 
together  in  this  way,  as  the  latter  stood  by 
the  door  full  of  respect  and  holding  his  cap 
in  his  hand,  as  long  as  it  pleased  the  master  to 
talk  to  him. 

One  thing  was  sure,  however:  the  man's  soul 
was  in  the  bell. 

The  little  man  had  a  greater  influence  with 
his  ringing  in  the  parish  than  many  a  one 
thought,  or  than  he  imagined  himself. 

That  was  quite  natural. 

When  he  tolled  the  bell  at  six  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  and  at  imidday,  and  at  six  o'clock 
in  the  evening,  and  on  Sunday  before  the  two 
Services,  —  the  peals  of  the  bell  reached  the 
ears  of  all  the  people,  both  in  the  village 
and  beyond,  and  it  was  quite  natural  that 
the  sound  of  the  ringing  often  brought 
the  figure  of  the  little  bell-ringer  before  their 
mind's  eye. 

"When  I  heard  the  deep  tones  of  the  Cathe- 
dral bell  in  Utrecht,  I  somehow  never  thought 
of  a  man  doing  it.  I  heard  the  sound,  and 
that  was  all.  But  here,  I  always  see  the  rope, 


238      ILTING,  THE  BELL-RINGER 

and  at  the  foot  of  the  rope  little  Ilting  with 
his  small  face  and  grey  hair.  And  that  picture 
speaks  more  to  me  than  the  bell-ringing  itself. 
I  only  preach  two  sermons  a  week,  but  that 
man  preaches  three  times  every  day!"  Walter 
.Would  say. 

And  it  was  the  same  with  all  the  parishioners. 
The  little  man's  figure  was  connected  with 
the  ringing  of  the  bell;  they  saw  him  as  they 
heard  him. 

What  did  he  preach  about  then? 

One  of  the  sermons  which  Ilting  delivered 
by  means  of  his  bell,  —  for  he  had  various 
ones,  —  was:  "It  is  God  that  giveth  the  power 
to  get  wealth." 

How  could  the  people  know  that  he  was 
preaching  this  to  the  most  distant  farmer, 
coming  out  of  his  house  to  watch  his  labourers; 
to  the  most  distant  peat-worker,  going  across 
the  water  in  his  scow;  and  to  Soer  the  shepherd 
boy,  as  he  was  watching  the  sheep  on  the 
moor  ?  He  had  never  told  them  that  there  was  a 
hidden  meaning  in  his  ringing.  And  yet  they 
knew  it.  How  was  that,  then? 

It  was  because  the  people  knew  something 
about  him. 

It  was  twenty  years  ago.  At  that  time  Ilting 
was  a  man  whjo  had  never  thought  of  the 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  239 

fact  that  it  is  the  Lord  who  giveth  the  power 
to  get  wealth.  Deep  down  in  his  heart,  there 
had  been  a  little  voice  which  never  ceased 
saying:  "Ilting,  you  also  must  become  a  rich 
man.  Just  like  Harders,  and  just  like  Wemel! 
You  also  must  possess  land  and  live  on  a  big 
farm,  and  sit  in  the  best  room  with  your 
wife,  and  drive  to  town  with  your  son  Ruurd 
on  a  cart  drawn  by  two  horses.  Ilting,  that  is 
happiness,  the  greatest  happiness  a  man  can 
have  I  Come  on,  man!  Why  should  you  not 
get  on,  just  as  well  as  the  others  ?  Are  you  not 
just  as  clever  as  Harders,  and  as  Wemel? 
Push  forward,  man!" 

That  was  at  the  time  about  which  he  had 
spoken  to  Walter,  at  the  time  when  there  was 
no  depth  in  his  ringing,  when  he  had  forgotten 
that  twenty  others  had  applied  for  the  place 
which  he  had  got,  and  when  he  did  not 
remember  that  there  was  a  salary  connected 
with  the  tolling  of  the  bell,  a  salary  which 
makes  hard  work  light. 

He  heard  that  little  voice  day  and  night. 
He  could  listen  to  nothing  else.  He  could 
not  even  hear  the  peals  of  the  bell  which  he 
himself  rang  out  from  the  tower.  The  little 
voice  was  far  louder;  it  sounded  above  the 
ringing. 


240      ILTING,  THE  BELL-RINGER 

Sometimes,  after  the  last  peals  had  died 
away,  he  would  climb  up  the  tower,  first  up 
one  ladder,  and  then  up  another  little  one. 
There  was  a  small  trapj-door  which  he  could 
just  open.  It  looked  towards  the  West.  The 
crows  and  the  pigeons  which  he  disturbed 
in  their  nests  would  fly  about  his  head. 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  Ilting?"  the 
crows  would  shriek.  "We  shall  beat  you  with  our 
wings,  and  we  shall  scratch  out  your  eyes  with 
our  beaks!  Go  away,  Ilting!  Come,  be  quick!" 

But  he  was  not  in  a  friendly  mood  then. 
Why  should  those  crows  stand  in  his  way? 
He  wanted  to  become  rich.  Did  they  not 
want  him  to  attain  his  goal  ?  And  he  frightened 
away  the  birds  with  a  long  stick. 

And  he  would  sometimes  sit  looking  out 
of  that  trapdoor,  with  keen  eyes,  wondering 
where  that  piece  of  land  would  be  when  he 
got  that  at  length.  Would  it  be  to  the  West? 
What  a  pity,  he  often  thought,  that  the  church- 
wardens had  never  had  a  trap-door  made 
looking  out  to  the  East  and  on  the  other  side^ 
of  the  tower  as  well'!  Now  he  was  forced 
always  to  look  out  in  the  same  direction. 
He  was  never  very  cheerful  when  he 
came  down  again.  And  he  detested  crows 
ever  afterwards. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  241 

Still  he  said:  "I  shall  get  my  wish;  before  I 
am  ten  years  oldqr  I  shall  be  rich,  in  one  way  or 
another!"  And  the  time  was  coming  when 
the  little  man  would  try  to  become  rich  with 
all  his  mind  and  with  all  his  power  and  with 
all  his  heart,  but  without  God,  who  gives  the 
power  to  get  wealth. 

Ilting  had  a  friend  in  the  schoolmaster, 
Mr.  Boeser. 

It  is  not  always  the  case  that  the  verger 
and  the  parish  clerk  are  good  friends;  but 
Ilting  and  the  parish  clerk,  old  Master  Boeser, 
were  very  fond  of  each  other. 

In  Southloorn  on  the  contrary  —  the  verger 
and  the  parish  clerk  were  sworn  foes.  The 
two  always  looked  at  each  other,  as  if  they 
wanted  to  say:  *'Do  you  also  want  to  serve 
the  church,  and  do  you  also  want  to  hold  an 
office  in  the  church?"  The  precentor  ajso 
thought:  "I  cannot  understand  why  the  parish 
thinks  it  necessary  to  have  a  verger  at  all; 
they  could  surely  have  given  me  the  little 
extra  work,  with  the  pay!"  And  the  verger  in 
his  turn  thought:  "What  is  the  good  of  that 
man?  He  has  been  done  away  with  in  several 
villages  in  the  North!  Now  we  have  an  organ 
we  could  quite  well  do  without  him!" 

Ilting  and  Master  Boeser  were  old  friends. 


242      ILTING,  THE  BELL-RINGER 

And  their  friendship  had  become  even  greater 
since  the  schoolmaster  had  given  up  teaching 
and  was  living  on  a  pension. 

The  schoolmaster  was  not  at  all  conceited! 
He  was  not  too  proud  to  make  a  friend  of 
the  little  vergier.  The  two  grey-headed  old 
men  were  often  seen  walking  together  in  the 
village  street  or  among  the  cornfields,  or 
sitting  at  the  fireside.  The  friendship  was 
increased  by  the  fact  that  even  in  their  most 
confidential  chats  Ilting  always  called  the 
other  one  "Master,"  although  he  had  never 
been  taught  by  him. 

"Master,"  the  bell-ringer  had  said  one  day, 
twenty  years  ago,  "it  is  Saturday,  and  you 
are  free  this  afternoon,  so  why  not  come 
out  with  mfe?  I  want  to  go  to  the  West  moor.  It 
is  about  an  hour's  walk,  but  there  is  time 
enough." 

And  the  two  men,  then  still  in  the  prime  of 
life,  had  set  out  together. 

When  they  had  arrived  at  their  destination 
Ilting  said:  "Just  look  round  now,!  I  have 
often  seen  this  sight  from  the  church  tower. 
Do  you  notice  that  there  are  no  hills  here  as 
on  the  east  side?  The  country  is  flat  as  far 
as  your  eye  can  see.  Just  think  if,  in  the 
future,  this  should  all  be  changed  into 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  243 

meadows,  with  cattle  grazing  on  them.  Can 
you  picture  it  ?  Just  think  of  the  plovers  rising 
up  from  among  the  cows,  and  in  summer  hay- 
waggons  being  pulled  across  by  strong  horses." 

The  schoolmaster  tried  to  picture  the  scene. 
He  wondered  when  ft  would  be. 

"And  do  you  see  how  the  ground  slopes 
gently  and  evenly  down  towards  the  river 
Vecht?  You  would  not  require  any  milte  here 
to  keep  the  ground  dry !  And  it  is  not  too  high 
either,  so  that  it  would  be  moist  enough  in 
summer!  Do  you  see  that,  master?" 

The  schoolmaster  saw  it,  and  looked  round 
with  a  wise  face  at  everything  that  Iltihg 
pointed  out  to  him. 

"The  question  to  be  considered  is  whether 
there  is  a  little  black  earth  under  the  heath. 
We  must  look  and  see,  mlaster.!" 

Boeser  understood  then  why  the  verger  had 
brought  out  his  spade.  He  dug  out  the  heather 
and  shoved  the  spade  deep  into  the  g'round, 
until  only  the  wood  was  seen.  He  did  this  many 
times,  until  a  small  space  was  laid  open,  where 
the  two  men  knelt  down,  bending  down  like 
a  pair  of  gold-seekers,  letting  the  earth  run 
between  their  fingers. 

"That  black  soil  is  not  so  bad,  master  1 
And  it  is  fairly  deep  too!" 


244      ILTING,  THE  BELL-RINGER 

Later  on  they  tried  it  in  another  spot,  and 
afterwards  again,  a  little  farther  on. 

Boeser  was  feeling  very  important;  he  felt 
like  an  antiquarian  digging  up  curiosities 
dating  from  the  time  of  the  Romans.  But 
Ilting  made  no  secret  of  the  fact  that  it  would 
not  affect  him  in  the  least  if  they  should  find 
an  urn,  or  anything'  like  that.  The  verger 
became  more  and  more  excited,  and  his  eyes 
glistened. 

"Now  we  must  find  out  if  here  is  a  clay 
bank  under  the  sand!  Now  we  shall  have 
to  work,  master!" 

And  going  back  to  one  of  the  parts  which 
he  had  laid  open,  the  man  began  to  dig  as 
fast  as  he  could  until  at  last  he  was  standing 
up  to  his  hips  in  a  deep  hole. 

"No  clay  bank,  no  clay  bank!"  he  shouted. 
"Now  we  must  try  again,  over  there!" 

Now  Boeser  took  over  the  spade;  and 
he  worked  until  he  was  bathed  in  per- 
spiration. For  he  was  accustomed  to  use  a' 
spade  only  in  his  garden,  to  do  the  light  work 
that  there  is  to  be  done  in  a  schoolmaster's 
garden. 

Ilting  set  to  work,  and  again  he  exclaimed 
after  a  short  time:  "No  clay  bank!  no  clay 
bank  I" 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  245 

After  that  the  two  friends  sat  down  beside 
the  hole  on  the  sand  they  had  dug  up. 

And  it  was  only  then  that  the  verger  told 
the  schoolmaster  about  his  great  plan,  of  which 
he  had  dreamed  for  days  and  weeks. 

"Look  here/'  he  said,  "I  mean  to  buy  a 
few  acres  of  ground  here.  We  shall  make  it 
into  meadows.  We  must  succeed,  old  man! 
I  have  saved  up  two  hundred  guilders;  they 
are  on  deposit  at  the  notary's.  You  have  some 
money  too,  master.  Will  you  help  me?  I  Have 
always  wished  for  some  land;  it  will  be  our 
first  possession !" 

The  two  friends  were  very  excited  for 
Eastloorn  men. 

And  when  they  went  home,  —  as  it  was 
getting  dark,  —  they  had  agreed  to  do  a 
thing  that  every  man  in  the  village,  had  he 
known  about  it,  would  have  advised  them 
not  to  do.  Ilting  and  Boeser  were  the  very 
last  who  could  be  expected  to  cany  out  a 
scheme  of  that  sort,  or  to  know  anything 
about  it. 

Next  day  was  a  Sunday,  so  that  Ilting  could 
not  work  out  his  plan  any  further.  That  day 
seemed  very  long. 

But  early  on  Monday  morning  he  was  the 


246      ILTING,  THE  BELL-RINGER 

first  to  appear  at  the  notary's  office.  The  clerk 
was  not  even  there  yet. 

"Ilting,  my  man,  there  is  surely  something 
very  important  that  you  are  wanting  me  so 
early,"  said  Van  der  Velden,  the  man  who 
had  been  long  enough  in  Eastloorn  to  know 
every  person  in  the  district,  and  in  the  sur- 
rounding districts. 

He,  the  notary,  knew  them  in  a  different 
manner  to  the  minister. 

"Do  you  think  you  know  the  people?"  he 
had  said  one  day  to  Walter,  "I  know  much 
more  about  them.  He  who  has  not  had  any 
financial  dealings  with  people  must  not  think 
that  he  knows  them." 

And  Walter  had  not  been  able  to  say  much 
in  his  own  defence.  He  felt  that  the  man 
was  speaking  the  truth  to  a  certain  extent. 
He,  Walter,  was  convinced  that  he  weighed  the 
hearts  of  his  farmers  fairly  accurately,  but 
that  man,  in  his  office,  laid  them  on  a  different 
scale. 

"I  suppose  you  have  never  had  to  divide 
an  inheritance?"  the  notary  remarked  scorn- 
fully, "and  I  suppose  you  are  still  at  peace 
with  your  relations?"  Walter  had  to  admit 
this  reluctantly,  although  it  was  a  confession 
of  his  poverty. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  247 

Van  der  Velden  was  laying  Ilting  now  on  his 
balance  when  he  asked  him  innocently  what 
brought  him  to  the  office  so  early. 

"Sir,"  Ilting  said,  "I  want  my  two  hundred 
guilders  that  are  here  on  interest." 

"What?" 

"And  then  I  would  like  you  to  make  out 
a  deed  of  sale,  saying  that  I  have  bought 
ten  acres  of  Wemel's  moor,  —  you  know  where 
that  lies,  sir,  —  for  that  sum." 

"Ilting,   when   did  you  do  that?" 

"Early  this  morning,  when  Wemel  was 
driving  his  cart  to  his  clover  fields:  we  have 
arranged  it  all." 

"You  farmers  are  up  early,  I  must  sayl 
When  others  are  still  asleep  you  have  already 
bought  and  sold  half  a  kingdom  I  You  deserve 
to  get  rich " 

In  the  course  of  conversation  Ilting's  whole 
plan  leaked  out. 

The  villagers  were  accustomed  to  talk  over 
all  their  private  affairs  with  the  notary  as 
with  their  best  friend.  It  was  a  curious  fact 
that  some  farmers  who  were  reserved  with 
everyone  else  made  a  confidant  of  him.  He 
knew  many  secrets;  one  could  see  that  in  His 
face.  His  eyes  seemed  to  say:  "If  only  you 
knew  how  much  we  know,  and  what  we  have 


248      ILTING,  THE  BELL-RINGER 

seen  sitting  in  that  same  chair  before  you! 
But  we  are  not  going  to  disclose  anything!" 
The  farmers  liked  him  for  it.  And  the  slyer 
the  look  in  his  eyes  the  better  the  farmers 
liked  him.  There  was  a  tacit  agreement  between 
the  notary  and  all  who  had  dealings  with 
him  that  he  should  be  silent  and  they  should 
trust  him.  And  both  sides  kept  strictly  to  that 
compact.  "An  excellent  notary,"  w^s  the  general 
opinion.  And  the  notary's  purse  did  well 
through  it.  He  was  becoming  a  rich  man. 

He  promised  Ilting  to  do  as  he  desired, 
and  told  him  that  he  could  start  cultivating 
the  land  if  he  liked. 

But  when  the  little  man  was  gone,  his  wise 
eyes  seemed  to  say;  "Some  more  news!  But 
silence  now!  If  that  plan  succeeds  I  shall  buy 
up  Werners  moor!  However  did  the  fellow 
think  of  it,  the  little  bell-ringer!" 

Things  had  not  gone  well  with  Ilting. 

He  had  dug  and  delved  for  many  weeks, 
until  he  had  finished  one  piece  of  ground. 
He  had  covered  it  with  artificial  manure  and 
sown  grass  seed  on  it.  This  was  the  accepted 
method  in  some  parts  and  had  been  tried 
with  success. 

But,  although  the  grass  came  up  very  well 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  249 

the  first  year,  the  second  year  the  heather 
had  grown  in  abundance  once  more.  During 
those  two  years  and  the  two  which  followed 
the  schoolmaster's  two  hundred  guilders  were 
soon  spent.  The  heather  certainly  had  the  oldest 
rights  on  the  soil;  who  could  say  how  old 
those  rights  were?  The  notary  did  not  buy 
any  of  Wemel's  moor. 

There  was  a  certain  amount  of  joking  about 
the  matter  in  the  village,  although  the  people 
were  far  too  polite  to  speak  to  the  bell-ringer 
about  it.  "Ilting  should  not  have  done  it," 
the  good  ones  remarked  gently;  "if  it  had 
been  possible,  surely  Wemel's  father  would 
have  tried  it." 

Only  Dreese,  old  Dreese,  who  was  always 
a  little  sharp,  could  not  help  saying,  as  they 
were  talking  on  the  Square  one  evening: 
"Ilting,  you  belong  to  the  land-owners  now. 
Ten  acres!  it  is  no  joke  I  We  shall  haye  to 
look  out  for  a  new  bell-ringer  soon,  for  I 
suppose  you  will  be  giving  up  that  job!" 

Ilting  had  not  answered  a  word.  And  the 
other  men  on  the  Square  all  thought  that 
Dreese  had  once  more  let  his  tongue  run  away 
with  him. 

"Ilting's  moor"  that  piece  of  ground  was 
always  called  after  that.  For  the  people  had 


250      ILTING,  THE  BELL-RINGER 

too  much  respect  for  the  schoolmaster  to  call 
it  "Boeser  and  Ilting's  moor." 

Ilting,  however,  could  not  forget  that  he 
had  persuaded  the  schoolmaster  to  do  a 
foolish  thing,  and  it  caused  the  little  man 
much  worry.  He  felt  that  he  must  make  good 
the  loss,  for  Ilting  knew  it  was  his  fault.  But 
he  wondered  how  long  he  would  have  to  wait 
before  he  could  save  even  a  hundred  guilders. 
It  was  such  a  large  sum. 

Their  friendship,  however,  did  not  suffer 
from  it.  That  was  partly  the  schoolmaster's 
doing.  He  had  remarked  very  magnanimously 
that  in  his  position  he  should  have  been  wiser, 
and  that  he  should  have  warned  the  other 
and  kept  him  from  doing  it.  But,  with  all  his 
kindness,  the  master  could  not  keep  Ilting 
from  fretting.  On  the  contrary,  he  worried 
even  more  when,  some  time  after,  the  minister, 
—  it  was  the  old  minister,  before  the  Dis- 
sension, —  took  for  his  sermon  this  text :  "But 
thou  shalt  remember  the  Lord  thy  God;  for 
it  is  He  that  giveth  thee  power  to  get  wealth, 
that  He  may  establish  his  convenant  which  He 
sware  unto  thy  fathers,  as  it  is  this  day." 

The  old  minister  was  full  of  tact,  and  He 
knew  exactly  how  to  choose  a  subject  which 
contained  a  life's  lesson;  and  it  was  generally 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  251 

one  which  the  farmers  required  more  than 
anything  else,  those  farmers,  who  always  have 
to  work  so  hard  from  morning  to  night.  "I 
must  see  that  they  are  not  altogether  engrossed 
in  their  work,  which  might  cause  them  to 
forget  more  important  things.  I  must  see  about 
that;  it  is  my  business,"  he  often  thought. 

And  when  the  old  minister  had  finished 
his  sermon  that  morning,  Ilting  suddenly  saw 
clearly  how  he  had  been  living  for  the  past 
weeks  and  months.  "I  have  not  known  what 
happiness  is,"  he  said  softly,  as  he  sat  in 
the  pew  near  the  entrance  of  the  church. 

After  church  he  saw  Dreese  standing  outside 
on  the  Square,  and  he  thought  he  knew  what 
the  latter  was  thinking.  Wishing  to  frustrate 
his  sharp  remarks,  he  said  humbly:  "The 
minister's  words  were  aimed  at  me  to;-day!" 

"That  is  quite  possible,  my  man!"  Dreese 
said  mercilessly. 

And  after  that  day  there  was  a  look  on 
Ilting's  face  which  meant:  "I  have  committed 
a  great  sin  in  buying  those  ten  acres  of  ground." 

The  other  men  tried  to  cheer  him  up  a 
little,  but  they  wtere  not  very  successful. 

"It  is  on  account  of  those  two  hundred, 
guilders  that  he  looks  so  miserable,"  Dreese 
said,  after  Ilting  had  left. 


252      ILTING,  THE   BELL-RINGER 

But  the  others  said:  "You  must  not  say  that, 
Dreese,  —  the  cause  lies  deeper  than  that." 

It  was  in  those  days  that  a  little  depth 
began  to  come  into  Ilting's  ringing.  All  the 
time  a  small  voice  seemed  to  be  whispiering 
to  him,  as  he  bent  his  little  body  up  and  down 
in  pulling  the  rope:  "You  were  on  the  wrong 
road,  Ilting!  You  must  not  wish  to  be  great 
like  Harders  and  Wemel !  Could  you  not  be 
quite  contented  and  happy  with  your  wife  and 
with  your  son  Ruurd?" 

And  so  it  was  that,  when  the  people  of 
Eastloorn  heard  the  peals  of  the  bell  at  certain 
hours  of  the  day,  they  always  thought  of  that 
incident  in  Ilting's  life,  and  it  taught  them 
this  lesson :  "You  must  not  wish  to  be  great,  as 
Ilting  did;  be  contented,  surely  that  is  enough!" 

The  little  bell-ringer  was  a  greater  influence 
in  the  parish  than  either  he  or  anyone  else 
knew;  he  preached  to  the  most  distant  farmer, 
as  he  came  out  of  his  house  to  watch  his  men; 
and  to  the  most  distant  peat-worker,  as  he 
crossed  the  water  on  his  scow;  and  to  Soer, 
the  shepherd  boy,  )as  he  watched  his  sheep 
on  the  moor. 

But  a  still  greater  depth  was  to  come  into 
his  ringing. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  253 

The  day  would  come  when  his  friend,  old 
Boeser,  was  to  depart  from  this  earth,  before 
Ilting  was  able  to  pay  back  the  two  hundred 
guilders,  which  the  old  schoolmaster  refused 
to  accept. 

The  master  had  been  afling  for  a  consi- 
derable time.  In  the  beginning  of  winter  the 
churchwardens  had  said:  "You  must  let  the 
new  master  take  over  your  work,  Boeser,  and 
when  you  get  a  little  stronger,  you  can  do  it 
yourself  again."  They  said  this,  although  they 
knew  only  too  well  that  there  was  not  much 
chance  of  it. 

But  they  could  not  induce  Boeser  to  give 
in.  "Ho.w  can  I  do  that?"  he  had  remarked  to 
Ilting  that  same  afternoon,  and  Ilting  was 
of  the  same  opinion. 

One  Sunday,  a  few  months  later,  the  church- 
wardens had  said  to  the  verger:  "Look  here, 
Ilting,  your  friend  is  failing  fastf" 

Ilting  liked  them  to  say  "Your  friend,"  and 
he  was  proud  of  it.  He  wondered  what  else 
they  were  going  to  say. 

"And  now  we  thought  perhaps  you  might 
be  able  to  persuade  him.  You  have  a  certain 
amount  of  influence  over  him." 

That  remark  hurt  Ilting,  for  he  remembered 
the  purchase  of  the  ten  acres  of  ground,  when 


254      ILTING,  THE   BELL-RINGER 

he  had  also  been  able  to  influence  the  master. 
But  he  listened  to  what  they  had  to  say. 

"Perhaps  you  could  induce  him  to  allow 
the  new  master  to  do  the  reading  in  the 
meantime!  You  know  as  well  as  we  do,  Ilting , 
that  the  old  man  can  scarcely  walk  to  church 
any  more." 

This  also  hurt  Ilting.  He  wondered  whether 
the  churchwardens  did  not  know  what  it  feels 
like  for  a  man  to  allow  others  to  do  his  good 
work!  He  did  not  answer. 

"And  then,  Ilting,  you  understand,  of  course, 
that  it  will  have  to  be  sooner  or  later.  The 
master  can  scarcely  see  any  more.  Some  people 
say  that  he  is  almost  blind;  one  can  notice 
it,  as  he  turns  over  the  leaves  of  the  Bible ; 
he  almost  touches  the  page  with  his  face  to 
see  whether  he  is  right.  It  is  wonderful  how 
well  he  manages.  When  he  has  found  the 
place  then  he  seems  to  see  quite  well,  and 
need  not  hold  his  face  so  close  to  the  book." 

The  verger  did  not  say  that  he  thought  the 
reason  of  this  was  that  the  master  was  so 
well  versed  in  the  Bible,  after  having  read  it 
at  home  and  in  church  for  sixty  years! 

"So  we  hope  you  understand  what  we  mean, 
Ilting,"  the  churchwardens  continued.  "It  is 
not  that  we  are  tired  of  the  master,  but  it  is 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  255 

for  his  own  good  that  we  should  wish  him  to 
resign." 

It  was  only  then  that  Ilting  spoke,  and  his 
voice  trembled  as  he  said :  "Does  the  master  not 
read  well  enough?" 

And  the  churchwardens  knew  that  they  could 
not  count  upon  any  help  from  that  quarter. 

Ilting,  however,  was  not  satisfied.  "I  must 
find  out  how  blind  the  master  really  is,"  he 
thought;  "next  Sunday  I  shall  know." 

When  on  the  following  Sunday  the  master 
was  going  to  start  reading,  and  the  whole 
congregation  was  looking  up  at  him  with  much 
reverence,  Ilting,  sitting  in  his  distant  pew 
by  the  door,  noticed  how  much  trouble  his 
friend  seemed  to  have  in  finding  the  right 
page.  He  had  been  told  to  read  the  Ninetieth 
Psalm,  and,  after  a  considerable  time  had 
passed,  he  had  evidently  found  it.  He  began 
to  read:  "A  Prayer  rf  Moses  the  man  of  God. 
Lord,  thou  hast  been  our  dwelling  place  in 
all  generations.  Before  the  mountains  were 
brought  forth,  or  ever  thou  hadst  formed  the 
earth  and  the  world,  even  from  everlasting 
to  everlasting,  thou  art  "Godr!" 

"Now  we  can  all  see  how  well  the  master 
still  reads,"  Ilting  thought.  "The  churchwardens 
may  say  what  they  like  about  it.  That  man 


256      ILTING,  THE   BELL-RINGER 

blind!  Surely  he  would  hesitate  then!  But 
afterwards  I  shall  know  for  certain!" 

And  when  the  old  man  had  read  the  last 
verse,  as  far  as  the  minister  had  told  him  to 
go,  namely,  the  twelfth  verse:  "So  teach  us 
to  number  our  days,  that  we  may  apply  our 
hearts  unto  wisdom!"  Ilting  said  to  himself: 
"Now  I  must  look  carefully  whether  or  not 
the  master  turns  over  the  leaf.  I  hope  he 
will  not;  then  I  shall  know,  afterwards!", 

The  verger  was  far  from  attentive  during  that 
service.  He  kept  on  gazing  at  the  master  to 
see  whether  he  would  leave  the  Bible  as  it  was. 
And  he  became  more  and  more  elated  as  the 
service  drew  to  a  close  that  the  Bible  was 
open  at  the  Ninetieth  Psalm. 

As  soon  as  the  service  was  over,  and  even 
before  all  the  people  had  left  the  church, 
Ilting  hastened  to  the  precentor's  desk.  The 
old  schoolmaster  had  been  led  away  gently 
by  his  wife. 

Then  Ilting  bent  his  head  over  the  Bible, 
and  he  looked,  and...  the  Bible  was  open 
at  the  Books  of  the  Prophets!  "Ezekiel" 
Ilting  read  with  incredulous  eyes. 

It  was  cleajr  now;  the  master  was  blind, 
really  blind. 

And   all  that  turning  over  the   leaves   had 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  257 

only  been  a  dodge  to  lead  the  people  to  believe 
that  he  could  see  fairly  well  still,  so  that 
they  might  let  him  remain  the  parish  clerk. 

Ilting  did  not  tell  anyone  about  it.  But  it 
was  no  longer  necessary;  for  in  that  same 
week  the  master  became  very  ill,  and  on  the 
following  Sunday  the  new  schoolmaster  was 
in  the  old  man's  place. 

Who  could  tell  for  how  many  {Sundays 
Master  Boeser  had  read  his  chapter  by  heart? 

When  the  story  came  out  afterwards,  the 
people  of  Eastloorn  were  proud  that  the 
knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  was  so  great  in 
the  village  as  had  been  proved  by  the  master. 
"Just  let  the  schoolmaster  of  Southloorn  try 
to  do  thatl"  Ilting  said. 

But  since  then  the  bell-ringer  was  a  very 
lonely  man,  and  a  great  sadness  crept  into 
his  heart;  as  if  he  felt  that  his  last  days  could 
not  be  very  far  off  either.  And  always  the 
last  words  which  he  had  heard  his  beloved 
friend  speak  seemed  to  sound  in  his  ears, 
those  words  which  he  had  read  with  blind 
eyes :  "So  tea,ch  us  to  number  our  days,  that 
we  may  apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom." 

He  thought  of  it  as  he  tugged  at  the  bell- 
rope  in  the  church  tower,  and  the  new  sermon 
which  now  rang  out  over  all  the  parish  was 


258      ILTING,  THE  BELL-RINGER 

that  the  people  should  give  more  thought  to 
their  latter  end.  And  sometimes  that  sermon 
.was  understood;  often  it  was  understood  by 
the  people,  as  they  stood  among  the  cornfields 
in  the  hot  sun,  holding  their  sickles;  and 
sometimes,  also,  it  was  understood  by  someone 
lying  ill  in  bed,  as  the  peals  of  the  bell  reached 
his  years  through  rickety  windows  and  badly 
fitting  doors. 

And  in  this  way  a  little  more  depth  came 
into  Thing's  ringing. 

But,  a  little  later,  something  else  happened 
which  made  Ilting  even  better.  It  took  place 
a  few  years  before  the  great  drought. 

He  had  one  son,  an  only  child.  Ruurd 
was  born  when  the  parents  had  almost  given 
up  hope  of  ever  having  a  child.  He  had  grown 
into  a  sturdy  lad;  had  gone  to  school  at  Master 
Boeser's,  and  afterwards  worked  with  one  of 
the  farmers.  He  was  as  good  a  labourer  as 
one  could  possibly  find. 

And  Ruurd  had  cast  an  eye  on  one  of 
the  village  girls.  This  was  golden-haired  Reeze, 
who  was  liked  by  all  in  the  village;  and  Ruurd's 
parents  were  very  pleased  with  his  choice. 

For  they  had  thought  at  one  time  that  their 
son  was  not  thinking  of  marrying.  It  was  not 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  259 

that  he  did  not  like  to  mix  with  the  girls ;  but 
when  his  parents  talked  about  marriage  he 
would  laugh,  and  make  a  joke  of  it. 

"He  will  never  do  it!"  Ilting  sometimes  said 
to  his  wife. 

And  she  would  answer:  "They  like  them 
all  nowadays,  that's  the  worst  of  it!  In  our 
day  we  liked  only  one,  and  we  married  that 
one.  The  boys  and  girls  are  quite  different 
nowadays." 

So  his  parents  were  pleasantly  surprised  when 
Ruurd  told  them  about  golden-haired  Reeze. 
And,  as  they  sat  together  by  the  fire  in  their 
little  room,  they  built  castles  in  the  air,  such 
as  they  had  never  dreamed  of  building  before. 

One  evening  Ruurd  and  Reeze  had  gone 
for  a  walk  on  the  lonely  dyke  by  the  side  of 
the  Vecht.  And  they  had  met  Joop,  the  son 
of  Ake,  crazy  Ake.  And  Reeze  had  clung  very 
close  to  Ruurd  as  the  men  passed  and  wished 
each  other  good  evening. 

"Ruurd,"  she  said,  when  Joop  was  far  off, 
"help  me  against  that  man !  I  am  so  frightened, 
Ruurd!  Yesterday  he  stopped  me  as  I  came 
back  from  milking  the  cows,  and  he  said  that 
I  must  give  you  up  and  belong  to  him!  I 
wanted  to  run  away,  but  he  held  me  by  my 
arm  until  I  began  to  scream!  I  hate  him, 


260      ILTING,  THE  BELL-RINGER 

Ruurd!  And  I  am  so  frightened!  He  is  a 
worse  man  than  any  tn  the  parish;  you  surely 
know  about  Seine,  whose  child  has  no 
father  I" 

The  next  day  the  two  men  had  come  across 
each  other  again  in  Dieters'  little  oak-wood, 
and  Ruurd  had  grinned  at  Joop  recklessly, 
as  if  he  wanted  to  say:  "You  have  come  too 
late,  my  man!  The  girl  belongs  to  me!  She 
does  not  want  to  have  anything  to  do  with  you.!" 

Joop  had  understood  that  grin  perfectly,  and 
in  passing  he  had  turned  round  suddenly  and 
had  said,  as  some  one  who  is  controlling  his 
anger :  "Look  here,  Ruurd,  I  shall  let  you  have 
the  girl.  It  is  the  first  time  I  have  been  honestly 
fond  of  a  girl,  and  she  shah1  not  be  made 
miserable  by  me!  You  can  have  her,  but  I 
tell  you,  man,  do  not  laugh  at  me  again,  I 
could  not  stand  it!"  And,  saying  this,  he  had 
walked  off. 

And  yet,  a  day  later,  Ruurd  had  grinned 
at  him  again,  recklessly.  It  happened  at  I  ken's 
buckwheat  field.  And  there  Ruurd's  dead  body 
was  found,  with  six  or  seven  deep  cuts  of 
a  knife  in  his  breast  and  his  side,  and  great 
gashes  in  his  face.  The  buckwheat  flowers 
on  that  spot  had  been  trampled  down,  and 
were  red  with  blood. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  261 

During  that  week  someone  else  had  rung 
the  bell  for  Ilting,  and  also  when  the  funeral 
took  place.  It  seemed  strange  to  Ilting  to  hear 
the  peals  of  the  bell  on  his  road  to  the  church- 
yard. He  had  never  heard  the  bell  rung  before; 
it  was  an  unknown  sound  to  him,  coming  as  it 
did  from  the  tower,  and  from  one  side,  instead 
of  from  above.  In  the  churchyard  he  kept 
on  thinking  of  that  sound;  he  could  scarcely 
concentrate  his  thoughts  on  what  was  taking 
place.  And  the  minister  was  astonished  to  hear 
Ilting's  answer  when  he  said:  "Come,  Ilting, 
I  will  give  you  my  arm.  We  must  go  home;  it 
is  finished."  The  minister  was  astonished  to 
hear  his  answer:  "Do  the  other  people  hear 
the  ringing  of  the  bell  as  I  do?"  The  minister 
thought  that  the  man  had  gone  mad  with 
grief. 

During  those  days,  while  someone  else  did 
his  work,  he  asked  many  people:  "Why  have 
the  churchwardens  had  another  bell  hung  in 
the  tower?  The  old  one  was  good  enough, 
surely.  I  cannot  understand  the  churchwar- 
dens!" And  so  it  was  quite  natural  that  some 
people  thought  as  the  minister  did. 

But  the  madnesp  parsed  off  whenj,  a  weeik 
later,  he  started  ringing  the  church  bell  again. 
From  that  day  he  was  cured  of  his  strange 


262      ILTING,  THE  BELL-RINGER 

sayings.  And  the  people  on  the  Square  said 
of  the  doctor,  who  had  given  him  some 
medicine  during  that  week :  "We  have  a  clever 
doctor!  Just  let  the  doctor  in  Southloorn  cure 
anyone  of  madness,  and  that  in  a  fortnight  1" 

And  that  was  the  great  sorrow  in  Ilting's 
life,  a  sorrow  such  as  he  had  never  known 
before. 

And  ever  afterwards,  the  people,  as  they 
heard  the  peals  of  the  bell,  could  not  help 
thinking  of  the  man  standing  at  the  rope. 
And,  as  they  thought  of  him,  while  the  bell 
rang  forth,  they  often  said  to  themselves: 
"Quite  true,  Ilting,  life  is  difficult,  and  we 
must  often  give  up  even  our  greatest  treasure 
upon  earth.  That  is  why  He  has  said:  'Lay 
not  up  for  yourselves  treasures  upon  earth, 
but  treasures  in  heaven!'  I  shall  remember, 
Ilting!"  Many  people  thought  in  this  way,  as 
they  stood  among  the  cornfields  in  the  blazing 
sun,  with  a  sickle  in  their  hands;  or  others, 
as  they  lay  ill  in  bed  and  as  the  sjound  of 
the  bell  came  towards  them  through  rickety 
windows  and  badly  fitting  doors. 

And  when  Walter  heard  the  story  later,  and 
understood,  he  knew  what  Ilting  had  meant 
.when  he  had  once  said,  as  he  stood  cap  in 
hand  in  the  'study  door,  that  only  by  a  great 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  263 

sorrow  could  there  be  depth,  either  in  a  sermon 
or  in  the  ringing  of  a  church  bell.  Ajid 
once  more  Walter  wished,  like  a  brave  man, 
that  the  great  sorrow  might  come  to  him  soon. 
For  he  hoped  with  all  his  heart  to  be  a  goo:d 
minister. 

Wiegen,  the  Dreamer,  was  very  fond  of 
Ilting.  He  would  have  liked  to  become  Ilting's 
friend,  to  have  occupied  the  empty  place  left  by 
Boeser.  But  he  knew  he  could  never  fill  that 
place;  for  Boeser  was  the  schoolmaster,  and 
he  had  once  been  a  poor  shepherd  boy,  who 
had  only  just  escaped  growing  up  the  wrong 
way, 

"Go  on  ringing,  Ilting,  go  on  ringing,"  he 
said  to  himself,  as  the  bell  pealed  forth;  "for 
you  are  ringing  in  the  Kingdom  —  that  is 
certain !" 


VIII 
GOESTING,   THE    DEACON 

Dreese  was  one  of  those  who  often  came 
to  have  a  chat  with  Goesting. 

It  was  a  curious  friendship,  for  the  tjwo 
men  wtere  very  different. 

Goesting  had  left  the  Reformed  Church,  and 
Dreese  had  not.  "Dreese  is  not  the  type  of 
man  for  us,  really,"  the  Dissenters  often  said. 
"We  cannot  understand,  Goesting,  why  he 
always  comes  to  you.  We  are  never  sure 
whether  he  means  a  thing  or  not;  you  know  as 
well  as  we  do,  Goesting,  that  he  almost  always 
scoffs  at  everything!" 

"Or  rather,  that  he  scoffs  at  almost  every- 
thing," they  corrected  themselves,  for  they 
felt  that  the  first  way  of  putting  it  was  a  little 
too  bad. 

"Dreese  is  a  deep-thinking  man,  though," 
Goesting  answered  the  other  elders.  "He 
mjeans  well,  but  one  must  know  him. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  265 

He  always  expresses  himself  differently  to 
what  he  means;  and  if  one  only  remembers 
that,  it  is  quite  easy  to  understand  him!" 

"We  believe  it  is  your  kind-heartedness, 
Goesting,  which  makes  you  bear  with  that 
man;  for  you  are  the  only  one  who  puts  up 
with  his  sneterin{g  words!" 

But  the  elder  did  not  enlighten  them  as 
to  what  it  was  which  made  him  look  upon 
Dreese  as  a  friend,  although  he  belonged 
to  the  Reformed  Church;  also  there  was 
much  between  them  of  which  no  one 
else  knew. 

"You  look  after  the  poor  of  the  parish," 
Dreese  sometimes  said,  when  he  came  in  the 
evening,  when  his  work  was  over  for  the  day, 
and  he  had  walked  the  long  distance  from 
his  house  to  Goesting's  farm,  "The  Haandrik." 
"Goesting,  there  is  more  work  for  you  to 
do!  Kleijsing's  wife  has  had  bread  from  the 
baker  for  the  last  three  weeks  without  paying 
for  it.  Mrs.  Goestel  told  me  so  herself;  and 
you  know  quite  well  that  those  Kleijsings  are 
quite  deserving;  there  is  real  poverty  there! 
If  only  they  belonged  to  our  Church  I  should 
know  what  to  do,  but  they  belong  to  yours! 
So  there  is  something  tor  you  to  dol  They 
must  be  helped'!" 


266        GOESTING,.  THE  DEACON 

A  remark  like  that  was  not  pleasant  for 
any  Dissenting  man  who  might  be  sitting  at 
Goesting's  hearth  to  hear.  "That  is  just  like 
Dreese,"  he  would  think,  "always  finding  fault! 
As  if  we  do  not  look  after  our  poorf  Why 
otherwise  does  he  say  it?  He  is  just  sneering 
at  our  Church!" 

But  Goesting  was  glad  if  Dreese  gave  him 
a  hint  occasionally.  "It  is  a  good  thing  you 
have  told  me  that,  Dreese!*'  he  would  say 
with  great  satisfaction,  as  he  took  one  of 
the  large  blocks  of  wood  and  threw  it  on  the 
fire.  "I  must  look  into  that  to-morrow!  Yes,  that 
is  like  those  Kleijsings:  they  will  never  own 
up  that  they  are  hungry,  and  suffer  it  all 
uncomplainingly !" 

"Yesterday  we  all  suffered  hunger  in  our 
dhurch!"  Dreese  said,  with  the  laugfa  that 
people  did  not  care  for.  "Mr.  Rechtman  took 
the  service  for  our  minister,  who  had  gone 
home,  I  heard  from  his  housekeeper.  That 
Rechtman  kept  us  there  for  quite  two  hours 
arid  a  half,  and  When  we  went  home  we  were 
hungry,  I  can  tell  yout  It  was  past  twelve 
o'clock!" 

"Yes,  one  gets  hungry  when  the  minister 
preaches  a  long  sermon,"  the  third  man,  who 
sat  by  the  fire,  would  say  kindly,  and  Dreese 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  267 

would  be  delighted  that  he  had  taken  him 
in  once  mone. 

"That  fe  a  sign  that  you  Dissenters  only 
suffer  physical  hunger,  and  you  know  nothing 
of  hunger  of  the  soul.  You  are  no  better  than 
we  are  then.  Your  Church  fe  better  than  you  I" 
Dreese  would  say  with  a  grin,  and  the  third 
man  could  not  be  called  his  friend  for  at 
least  six  weeks. 

"Now  you  must  understand,  Goesting," 
Dreese  went  on,  "that  Rechtman  is  unctuous 
enough;  it  is  not  that.  Unctuousness  is  like 
the  butter  on  bread;  and  who  does  not  like 
butter  on  his  bread?  Our  minister  has  not 
got  it,  or  your  Senserff  either.  Ah,  they  have 
not  learned  the  art  yet,  and  many  a  call  it  will 
cost  those  two  men!  Why  do  they  not  learn 
it  from  him?" 

The  third  man  at  the  fire  was  taken  in 
again ;  for  he  took  Senserff 's  part,  and  protested 
hotly  that  Senserff  was  an  excellent  minister. 
Dreese  might  say  what  he  liked,  but  when 
he  came  away  after  having  heard  Senserff's 
sermon,  he  always  felt  that  he  had  heard 
the  words  of  a  holy  man. 

"You  do  not  understand  it,  man,"  Dreese 
said,  and  the  flames  of  the  large  block  of  wood 
lit  up  his  eyes  in  a  wonderful  way.  "Rechtman 


268        GOESTING,  THE  DEACON 

is  the  man !  Have  you  never  heard  him  ?  .Well, 
the  art  of  preaching  a  really  unctuous  sermon 
consists  in  casting  one's  eyes  sometimes 
upwards,  then  to  the  right  or  left!  It  consists 
in  a  twist  of  the  voice,  sometimes  a  tremble, 
sometimes  a  shout,  and  occasionally  a  Jong 
drawl.  And  then  the  smile,  man,  the  smile, 
which  must  light  up  one's  face  during  the 
whole  sermon,  as  if  one  were  saying:  'Do 
you  see  how  happy  I  am  to  be  here  in  your 
church?'  When  will  Senserff  and  Walter  learn 
that?  Never,,  I  think;  they  are  not  the  men 
for  it!" 

The  third  man  wished  to  say  something  to 
defend  his  minister,  for  he  was  being  taken 
in  all  the  time.  But  it  was  impossible,  as 
Dreese  would  not  stop. 

"Why  do  the  professors  not  make  a  point 
of  teaching  their  pupils  that  manner  when 
they  are  studying?  I  have  met  a  professor 
who  was  like  that.  That  was  when  I  went 
to  town  one  day.  I  wanted  a  horse,  and  stayed 
there  for  the  Sunday.  If  you  come  to  think!  of 
it,  it  is  quite  easily  understood;  a  man's  natural 
voice  is  a  sinful  voice;  everything  in  nature 
is  sinful,  so  the  natural  voice  must  be  sinful 
too;  that  is  wfoy  the  ministers  should  give 
up  their  natural  voice  and  cultivate  an  unna- 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  269 

tural  voice!  Your  eyes,  in  their  natural  state, 
are  also  sinful;  that  is  why  a  true  minister 
must  cultivate  unnatural  eyes.  And  the  same 
can  be  said  of  the  whole  face !  The  expression 
of  every  man's  face  must  of  necessity  be 
sinful,  man,  sinful!  And  that  is  wjiy  a  man 
must  alter  his  expression,  until  it  is  no  longer 
natural!  Do  you  understand  it  or  not?" 

Goesting  did  not  answer,  but  he  understood 
it  all  quite  well.  "How  Dreese  can  talk!"  he 
thought ;  "it  is  quite  evident  that  he  has  bottled 
up  all  his  anger  about  Rechtman,  and  now; 
he  is  just  letting  his  tongue  go!"  But  the 
third  man  was  quite  at  sea.  Why  should 
Senserff  not  be  a  good  minister  because  he 
was  too  natural  in  his  words,  bearing  and 
gestures  ? 

"I  cannot  understand,  though,"  he  grum- 
bled, "why  you  go  to  Walter's  church  at  all! 
If  he  does  not  please  you,  then  why  do  you  go  ?" 

"I  will  tell  you,"  Dreese  answered.  "I  am 
but  a  natural  man  myself,  and  that  is  why 
I  go  to  Walter's  church.  As  soon  as  I  get 
rid  of  my  sinful  nature,  and  that  will  surely 
happen  some  day,  I  promise  you,  I  shall  go 
and  hear  Rechtman,  even  if  I  should  have 
to  walk  from  here  to  Sofuthloorn  every 
Sunday !" 


270        GOESTING,  THE  DEACON 

And  in  the  following  week  it  was  said  in 
the  village  that  Dreese  was  not  pleased  with 
his  minister,  and  a  week  later  there  was  a 
rumour  that  he  went  to  Southloorn,  to 
Rechtman's  church.  The  third  man  had  started 
the  report  and  the  rest  had  been  added  later 
on.  It  was  also  said  that  it  would  not  be  long 
before  Dreese  joined  the  Dissenting  Church. 
"Preserve  us  from  that!"  the  Dissenters  were 
heard  to  say. 

It  was  curious  that  Goesting  always  under- 
stood him;  for  Goesting  was  not  particularly 
clever.  Goesting  himself  thought  it  was  because 
he  saw  so  much  of  him. 

"But,  talking  about  hunger,"  Dreese  con- 
tinued, "that  Rechtman  knows  exactly  how 
to  arouse  it.  Our  poor  sinful  souls  say  to 
the  man  In  the  pulpit:  'Comje  now,  give  us 
what  we  ask  For;  you  know  what  we  mean!' 
And  a  stupid  minister  will  say:  'Right  you 
are,  I  will  give  it  you  here!'  But  Rechtman  has 
a  way  of  giving  you  a  peep  into  Heaven,  and 
whenever  your  desire  to  enter  has  been  roused 
he  says:  'No,  you  cannot  go  in  there!'  And 
he  will  prove  it  to  you  with  his  dogmas.  He 
makes  you  long  for  salvation,  and  then,  if 
you  want  to  grasp  it,  suddenly  says:  'No, 
that  is  not  for  you!'  You  begin  to  long  for  it 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  271 

more  and  more;  you  are  starving  with  hunger, 
and  parched  with  thirst ;  and  just  as  you  think : 
now  I  can  drink  from  that  spring  and  eat 
the  dates  in  that  oasis,  then  he  suddenly 
appears  at  the  spring  and  among  the  trees, 
and  sends  you  awa,y  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  I 
That  is  the  real  thing,  manl  It  m^ist  not  be 
made  too  easy  for  us  sinners;  we  have  not 
deserved  it!  We  must  first  suffer  hunger  and 
thirst,  and  then  our  longing  for  eternal  bliss 
will  be  much  greater  I  That  is  what  he  once 
said  to  Walter,  who  told  me.  And  I  said  to 
Walter  that  I  thought  Rechtman  was  in  the 
right,  and  that  he,  Walter,  made  it  all  seem 
too  easy!" 

"I  suppose  your  minister  was  furious  when 
you  said  that?"  fhe  third  man  remarked. 

"Not  at  all;  he  laughed  heartily  when  I 
said  it,"  Dreese  said,  and  the  flames  made 
his  eyes  sparkle.  Goesting  was  constantly 
putting  new  blocks  of  wood  on  the  fire,  so 
that  it  blazed  high  up. 

Goesting  was  laughing  in  his  sleeve ;  "Dreese 
is  a  queer  fellow,"  he  thought,  "but  he  is 
right!  I  understand  him  quite  well!" 

The  third  man,  however,  did  not  understand 
him  at  all. 

Dreese  had  not  nearly  finished;  for  a  two- 


272        GOESTING,  THE  DEACON 

and-a-half  hours'  sermon  had  given  him  much 
food  for  thought,  and  it  would  be  some  time 
before  he  had  put  it  all  into  words.  "No,  no," 
he  went  on,  "the  Southloorn  people  are  better 
off  than  we  are  I  Have  you  ever  watched 
Rechtman,  when  he  comes  down  from  the 
pulpit  ?  He  smiles  to  right  and  left,  and  shakes 
hands  with  anyone  who  happens  to  be  near 
him;  he  even  shook  hands  with  those  two 
old  women,  Fenne  and  Snippe,  who  sit  right 
in  front  because  they  are  so  deaf.  'Why  does 
he  do  that?'  Fenne  shouted  into  Snippe's  ear, 
so  that  everyone  could  hear  it,  for  if  she 
does  not  shout  the  other  one  cannot  understand. 
Snippe  laughed  in  a  malicious  way;  those  two 
old  women  are  so  unamiable,  and  they  think 
they  can  look  into  everyone's  soul.  And  there 
were  several  members  of  the  congregation  who 
laughed  in  a  disrespectful  manner.  But  when 
we  were  outside  on  the  Square  I  said  to 
Wemel,  and  to  some  others  who  were  listening: 
'Look  at  that  now,  Wemel,  our  ministers  are 
not  like  that!  Are  they  friendly  when  they 
come  down  from  the  pulpit?  Dp  they  smile 
and  shake  hands?'  Neither  of  them  does  tha,t. 
For  what  reason  is  Absalom  given  us  as  an 
example  in  the  Scriptures  if  we  are  not  meant 
to  follow  it?  Did  Absalom  not  steal  the  hearts 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  273 

of  the  men  of  Israel  in  this  manner,  while 
his  father  David  was  stern  and  unyielding? 
It  served  him  right  that  his  subjects  forsook 
David  and  gave  the  kingdom  to  Absalom!! 
I  can  never  make  out  why  he  came  to  such 
a  sad  end  m  that  tree ;  for  kindness  ought  to 
be  rewarded  surely!  I  hope  the  world  will 
be  more  just  towards  Rechtman,  and  that  all 
the  calls  of  the  Reformed  Church  will  be 
for  him!  Have  you  noticed  that  Rechtman's 
hafr  is  long  too?  That  is  vanity,  one  of  our 
men  said  yesterday;  but  it  is  not  so,  it  is  the 
fate  of  all  Absaloms  to  have  long  hair!" 

"Rechtman  had  a  call  about  three  weeks 
ago,"  the  third  man  remarked,  "I  am  begin- 
ning to  think  you  are  quite  right,  for  neither 
of  our  two  ministers  has  had  a  call  yet." 

"I  am  glad  you  are  beginning  to  see  ilj! 
A  minister  must  do  his  best  to  get  on,  and 
if  he  never  gets  a  call  it's  a  sign  that  he 
is  not  doing  well.  They  must  get  themselves 
talked  about  or  they  will  never  be  noticed. 
Shall  I  tell  you  what  Rechtman  did  the  other 
day?  He  was  taking  the  service  in  a  certain 
village  in  G udders,  and,  when  he  was  moun- 
ting the  pulpit,  he  knelt  down  on  the  bottom 
step  with  his  face  on  one  of  the  following 
steps,  and  remained  in  that  attitude  for  at 

18 


274        GOESTING,  THE  DEACON 

least  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  so  that  everyone 
might  sefe  what  a  great  sinner  he  felt  himself 
to  be,  and  how  unworthy  to  preach  the  Gospel. 
He  did  not  get  that  call;  evidently  the  people 
there  were  not  able  to  appreciate  such  an 
action,  but  he  got  himself  talked  about,  all 
the  same.  Why  do  our  ministers  not  do  things 
like  that?  Is  it  not  a  pastor's  first  duty  to 
set  us  the  exaimple  of  humility  and  penitence  I 
I  be]ieve  Walter  and  Senserff  are  still  too 
proud";  they  are  not  as  they  should  be  yet. 
Some  ministers  attract  the  public  attention  £>y 
becoming  Socialists,  Walter  says;  ancf  others 
by  opposing  the  Socialists.  Again  others 
pretend  to  be  martyrs  to  our  modern  system 
of  committees,  or  by  setting  on  foot  new 
institutions  which  neveir  last  for  mofe  than 
six  weeks.  Walter  says  that  they  call  together 
great  meetings  in  Amsterdam,  to  which  they 
invite  people  from  all  parts  of  the  country. 
They  accomplish  nothing,  because  they  gene- 
rally withdraw  their  own  proposals,  sometimes 
even  during  the  meeting  itself.  But  that  does 
not  matter;  they  get  talked  about,  every  one 
hears  about  them,  and  their  fame  is  spread 
throughout  the  country.  Walter  told  me  the 
other  day  that  he  heard  one  minister  say 
to  another  in  rather  an  angry  tone:  'You  do 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  275 

not  believe  in  ypur  own  proposals^'  to  which 
the  other  one  answered:  That  is  not  neces- 
sary either,  if  only  the  people  believe  in  them!' 
That  is  what  I  call  working  for  the  Chimchil 
When  do  our  ministers  ever  do  such  things? 
They  just  plod  on  here,  —  never  go  anywhere 
else,  never  raise  their  voices  in  the  streets.  They 
will  spend  their  lives  here  in  visiting  the  sick, 
and  preparing  the  children  for  their  confir- 
mations, and  they  will  die  and  be  buried  here, 
and  OUT  country  will  never  know  that  Walter 
and  Senserff  have  existed!  A  minister  who 
does  not  get  talked  about  deserves  to  live 
and  die  in  that  way!  Do  you  not  think  so 
too,  Goesting?" 

"Well,  I  must  say  that  is  put  rather  too 
strongly,  my  man.  I  have  never  heard  much 
about  these  matters."  Goesting  answered  with 
his  kind  smile,  the  smile  of  a  man  who  cannot 
see  any  harm  in  the  world,  because  there  is 
no  harm  in  his  own  heart. 

"How  could  you  hear  about  these  things, 
here  on  the  moor :  your  whole  world  is  centred 
round  your  farm!" 

Dreese  would  sometimes  sit  and  talk  in  that 
way  for  an  hour  or  more  in  the  evening,  but  the 
third  mjan.  whoever  he  might  be,  generally 
left  long  before  Dreese  got  up  to  go.  And 


276        GOESTING,  THE  DEACON 

he  invariably  went  away  with  a  very  uncom- 
fortjable  feeling,  because  he  had  failed  to 
understand  Dreese's  ideas;  and  in  that  feeling 
he  represented  the  greater  part  of  the 
community. 

Only  Goesting,  who  never  said  much  him- 
self, generally  listened,  and  his  wife  liked 
Dreese,  and  when  he  went  away  they  always 
said:  "Come  as  often  as  you  like,  Dreese,  we 
understand  you.  And  you  are  quite  right,  it 
sometimes  makes  us  sad  too  f" 

As  he  was  going  out  at  the  back-door,  Dreese 
said:  "You  must  help  those  KTeijsings,  of 
course,  but  I  know  you  have  quite  enough  to 
do  with  your  poor  people ;  here  are  ten  ^guilders 
to  pay  their  debt  at  the  baker's  and  to  give 
them  a  week's  bread  into  the  bargain;  but 
do  not  tell  any  one  please  I  I  do  not  want  to 
make  any  difference  between  your  poor  and 
our  own." 

This  was  one  of  the  secrets  which  existed 
between  the  two  men,  and  because  it  was 
a  secret  Goesting's  defence  was  always  very 
weak  when  he  took  Dreese's  part  to  the 
elders. 

As  Dreese  walked  away  from  the  farm  and 
down  by  the  moorland  path,  the  path  along 
which  Wine  and  Wiegen  had  once  made  their 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  277 

way  also,  past  the  gnarled  oak  tree,  he  felt 
very  cheerful,  in  spite  of  the  darkness  which 
surrounded  him.  He  felt  a  different  man  after 
his  conversation  \yith  Goesting. 

Dreese  was  a  man  who  could  not  stand 
affectation,  above  all  not  in  a  minister,  but 
he  always  felt  much  better  after  he  had 
relieved  his  mind  by  talking  to  Goesting,  the 
man  in  whose  ear  he  could  pour  all  his  grie- 
vances, and  it  never  did  him  any  harm. 

What  would  Dreese  have  done  without 
Goesting  ? 


There  were  more  people  who  could  not  well 
have  done  without  Goesting,  although  his  farm 
was  far  away,  an  hour's  walk  from  the  village. 

One  of  these  people  was  Senserff,  Goesting's 
own  minister,  the  poor  widower,  who  could 
not  forget  his  wife. 

"I  feel  I  must  have  another  talk  with  you," 
he  said  one  day,  and  the  expression  on  his  face 
was  far  from  cheerful. 

"That  is  right,  sir,'*  Goesting  said.  And  they 
sat  down  together  on  the  bench  in  front  of 
the  house  under  the  flowering  apple  trees. 
It  was  a  wonderful  spring;  few  people  in 
Eastloorn  could  remember  such  a  beautiful  one. 


278        GOESTING,  THE  DEACON 

Senserff  looked  up  at  the  branches,  with 
their  pink  and  white  blossoms.  He  stretched 
out  his  hand  and  brought  one  of  them  close 
to  his  face,  carefully,  without  breaking  it, 
delighting  in  its  sweet  fragrance.  Then  he 
let  go  the  branch,  which  flew  back  with  a  jerk. 

All  those  blossoms  cooild  not  prevent  the 
sun  from  shedding  its  gentle  rays  on  the 
wooden  bench,  but  the  little  leaves,  which 
were  already  bidding,  said:  "Just  wait  until 
we  grow  a  little;  then  you  will  not  be  able 
to  shine  on  the  bench;  then  we  shall  make  it 
a  shady  corner  for  Goesting  and  his  wife  to  sit." 

"Oh,  only  in  midsummer,"  the  sun  answered; 
"but  then  I  shall  be  so  much  older  and 
stronger  myself.  Do  you  think  that  only  you 
grow?  We  shall  see,  we  shall  seel" 

And  the  blossoms  and  the  little  leaves 
laughed  softly,  as  children  at  school  do,  when 
they  nudge  each  other  with  their  elbows  so 
that  the  teacher  shall  not  notice  it. 

Not  only  the  blossoms  and  the  sunshine, 
but  Goesting  also  laughed  as  he  sat  on  the 
bench,  and  he  did  not  even  have  to  alter  his 
face  for  that.  The  expression  on  his  face  was 
always  kind  and  happy ^ 

A  crow  hopped  across  the  garden  path.  It 
was  a  tame  one,  and  had  been  on  the  farm 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  279 

for  three  years.  No  one  knew  how  it  had 
come  there.  Goesting  had  found  it  among 
a  bed  of  peas  when  it  was  very  .young  and 
had  almost  no  feathers.  He  had  picked  it  up 
and  reared  it  on  bread  and  worms,  and 
afterwards  he  had  shortened  its  wing-feajthers. 
And  so  the  crow  hopped  about,  as  if  the  farm 
belonged  to  it.  It  had  even  made  friends  with 
the  cat,  which  had  been  a  great  difficulty 
at  first. 

It  came  hopping  along  towards  the  bench, 
picking  up  some  sand  on  the  way,  perched 
itself  on  the  £ath,  and  looked  at  the  two  men 
with  its  head  on  one  side.  It  knew  the  minister 
quite  well,  and  all  the  other  people  who  came 
to  the  farm,  but  that  head  on  one  side  meant: 
"Why  are  yoiu  here  again?  Why  can  you  not 
leave  Goesting  and  me  alone?  Every  one 
seems  to  think  that  this  is  their  home  .too,  and 
that  Is  not  the  case  at  allJ" 

"Look,"  said  Senserff,  producing  his  pocket 
book.  "I  have  not  shown  you  this  yet,  —  my 
wife.  My  father-in-law  has  had  smaller  photo- 
graphs taken  from  the  large  one  which  I 
have  In  my  study." 

Goesting  took  the  picture  in  his  hand, 
without  saying  anything.  What  could  he  say? 
For  one  moment  a  dark  shadow  seemed  to 


280        GOESTING,  THE  DEACON 

glide  across  the  old  man's  face.  Were  the 
little  leaves  growing  too  strong  for  the  spring 
sun?  Where  they  casting  that  shadow  on 
Goesting's  face? 

"You  are  loosing  already,"  the  little  leaves 
said  to  the  sun;  "do1  you  see  the  shadow  on 
Goesting's  face?" 

"You  are  altogether  mistaken,"  the  sun 
answered;  "it  is  only  because  the  old  man  is 
sorry  for  his  minister.  Did  you  think  that  was 
your  doing?" 

Senserff  had  also  noticed  it.  So  it  was  not 
necessary  for  Goesting  to  say  anything. 
Senserff  had  also  noticed  with  what  reverence 
those  old  hands  held  the  photograph,  as  if  it 
had  to  be  handled  very  gently.  "How  rough 
we  are,"  those  hjands  seemed  to  say  "how 
can  the  minister  give  us  that  pretty  little  face 
to  hold.' 

"Do  you  not  think  it  a  good  likeness?" 
Senserff  said.  "We  had  that  large  photograph 
taken  when  I  was  working  for  my  examination 
in  Utrecht.  She  had  come  over  suddenly, 
without  Letting  me  know  beforehand.  She 
stood  on  the  threshold,  holding  the  knob  of 
the  door  —  'Are  you  supposed  to  be  working 
for  your  examination?'  she  said  laughingly, 
without  coming  in.  I  must  tell  you  that  my 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  281 

room  was  full  of  students;  they  used  to  come 
running  in  and  out  a  great  deal,  but  how  could 
I  help  it  ?  They  were  always  so  kind  and  good- 
natured,  those  boys!  On  this  occasion  one 
was  lying  on  the  sofa,  another  on  two  chairs, 
and  a  third  was  sitting  with  his  legs  across 
the  window  still.  It  was  a  nice  sigh*  for  a 
young  girl.  But  in  an  instant  they  were  all 
up.  An  officer  could  not  have  made  his  soldiers 
stand  at  attention  any  sooner.  We  were  all 
a  little  confused,  for  you  know  the  impression 
a  young  girl  makes  standing  on  the  threshold 
of  a  room  full  of  young  men  who  live  good 
and  moral  lives.  The  cigar  ends  flew  out  of 
the  window.  There  was  one  queer  customer 
among  them  though,  a  fellow  whqm  one  could 
not  help  liking,  in  spite  of  his  faults.  'Out  of 
the  way,  all  of  you!'  he  shouted,  'make  room 
for  the  embrace!'  And  amidst  wild  shouts  of 
laughter  which  filled  the  room,  I  had  to  make 
my  way  to  the  door  between  a  double  file 
of  young  men.  The  girl  stood  there  with  a 
blush  of  shame  on  her  cheeks,  with  sparkling 
eyes  which  seemed  to  implore  me :  'Please 
do  not  kiss  me  now,  I  beseech  you,!'  —  It  was 
on  that  day,  Goesting,  that  the  photograph 
was  taken.  Why  did  she  come  without  letting 
me  know?" 


282        GOESTING,  THE  DEACON 

"Do  you  see  that  I  aim  winning;"  the  .spring 
sun  cried;  'look  |at  the  sunshine  on  the 
minister's  face  and  pn  Goesting's  face!  See 
how  they  both  smite !  I  am  stronger  than 
you!" 

But  the  little  leaves,  which  were  trying  hard 
to  unfold  themselves,  answered:  "Do  you  not 
see  that  it  is  only  the  memory  of  happieir 
days  which  is  making  that  young  man  look 
so  cheerful?  It  is  not  your  doing,  sun!  Please 
do  not  imagine  it!" 

And  the  crow  was  standing  on  the  garden 
path,  quite  close  to  the  bench,  with  its  .head 
on  one  side,  as  if  it  were  saying:  "What  is 
that  the  minister  is  talking  about  ?  Is  it  about 
young  girls?  It  is  a  good  thing  the  other 
elders  and  their  wives  do.  not  know  abo*ut 
that,  or  they  would  refuse  to  go  to  his 
Church  f  They  all  seem  to  come  to  Goesting 
with  their  worries!  I  cannot  understand  it 
at  all!" 

"Will  you  believe  it,  Goesting,  it  was  touch 
and  go  that  we  never  had  these  small  photo- 
graphs," Senserff  said  musingly.  "As  I  told 
you,  these  small  ones  were  taken  from  the 
large  one  which  I  have  in  my  study.  That 
large  one  is  the  only  copy  we  have,  and  it 
was  almost  destroyed  once.  How  could  I  ever 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  283 

do  without  it?  Just  fancy!  one  day  I  was 
sitting  at  my  writing  table;  and  I  was  working 
hard  at  some  papers  which  I  had  to  send  up 
to  "Classis"  when  my  wife  came  in  and  sat 
down  on  the  arm  of  my  chair  and  glanced 
at  the  papers.  'You  cannot  understand  any- 
thing of  that,  inquisitive  little  woman,'  I  said; 
'you  can  look  at  it  if  yofi  like;  it  is  Greek.  But 
not  as  Grecian  as  your  nose!'  I  tried  to  joke 
with  her;  I  Jsnew  that  she  was  undergoing  a 
fierce  mental  conflict,  for  at  first  she  did  not 
want  to  take  part  in  the  Dissension.  'Oh,  please 
stop  trying  to  joke,'  she  said,  ''it  is  not  possible 
to-day.  Tell  me,  —  and  then  I  found  out 
what  she  was  worrying  about,  —  '?ell  me, 
when  yoju  and  your  eiders  have  got  the 
length  of  refusing  to  obey  the  Synod, 
then  will  you  have  to  preach  in  another  church, 
and  will  you  not  be  allowed  in  this  jpulpit?' 
'That  remains  to  be  seen,'  I  answered; 
'perhaps  we  shall  be  allowed  to  keep  our 
buildings,  and  then  we  shall  not  be  forced  to 
build  a  new  church/  —  'I  should  like  that,' 
she  said  thoughtfully,  and  then  —  'Shall  we 
have  to  leave  this  house  too?'  —  'I  sincerely 
hope  not,  but  we  must  be  prepared  for  that, 
prepared  for  all  sacrifices.'  —  'I  should  like 
so  much  to  stay  here,'  she  said,  —  'So  should 


284        GOESTING,  THE  DEACON 

I,  but  he  who  takes  one  step  in  the  right 
direction,  must  be  prepared  to  take  the  second 
one  too,'  I  answered.  'And  what  does  it 
matter?  We  can  easily  get  another  house  in 
the  village,  and  we  shall  be  just  as  happy 
theo-ef'  —  And  I  *vent  on  talking  on  the 
subject  of  self-sacrifice  for  the  sake  of  a  good 
cause,  in  this  case  the  emancipation  of  the 
poor  Church.  I  was  a  little  harsh  in  my  words, 
for  I  believed  the  time  had  come.  Are  not 
the  ways  of  God's  children,  ways  where  their 
own  blood  must  floiw  out  of  many  wounds? 
And  still  she  was  thinking.  —  'And  shall 
we  be  poor  then?  Will  your  stipend  be 
stopped?  You  know  Father  has  nothing, 
and  neither  have  you!'  —  'Oh,  that  will 
not  matter,1  I  said  laughingly,  'I  have 
always  had  ascetic  tendencies  I"  And  I  went 
on  talking  about  the  courage  which  true 
believers  must  have,  a  courage  which  will  help 
them  to  make  a  stand  against  the  devil.  I  was 
going  to  get  up  from  my  chair,  filled  with 
enthusiasm,  when  suddenly  my  little  wife  burst 
into  tears  and  hid  her  face  on  my  shoulder. 
'I  cannot  leave  this  house,  where  I  have  been 
so  ideally  happy!'  she  sobbed.  'I  do  not  want 
to  see  you  in  another  pulpit;  it  Is  here;  I 
felt  proud  of  you  for  the  first  time'  I  do 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  285 

not  want  to  be  poojr,  and  live  in  one  of  those 
dark  rooms  that  the  farmers  live  in!  I  do  not 
want  my  baby  to  be  born  in  one  of  those 
dismal  rooms  in  the  village.  I  will  not,  I  will 
not'!*  And  she  sobbed  with  her  arms  round 
my  neck  and  implored  me,  and  would  not 
let  me  go  in  her  misery.  And  then  I  talked  to 
her  for  an  hour  or  mare,  Goesting.  It  was 
the  fiercest  struggle  I  ever  had  in  my  life; 
for  afterwards  when  she  died,  Goesting,  it 
was  far  less  difficult;  it  was  an  altogether 
different  sorrow.  But  at  last,  at  last  I  had 
conquered.  The  sobbing  stopped,  she  lifted 
up  her  head,  her  large  eyes  looked  up  at  me 
again,  her  lips  were  smiling.  —  'Does  God 
wish  it?'  she  said;  'then  it  must  be'.  And  I 
had  never  before  loved  her  as  I  did  then. 
The  evening  fell  and  still  she  sat  beside  me 
at  my  desk.  The  stars  shed  their  soft  light 
into  the  room;  I  laughed  and  I  teased  her; 
I  was  as  happy  as  a  king1.  —  'I  have  always 
idolised  you/  I  said,  'you  are  my  goddess 
who  makes  m>  path  of  life  beautiful,  and; my 
goddess  you  shall  stay.  I  shall  bring  sacri- 
fices to  you,  you  who  can  make  sacrifices!'  — 
And  then,  then  it  happened.  —  We  heand 
something  fall  from  the  wall  and  down  to 
the  floor,  with  the  sound  of  glass  breaking 


286        GOESTING,  THE  DEACON 

into  a  thousand  pieces.  —  'My  photograph  P 
she  erred.  —  And  when  I  lit  the  lamp,  we  saw 
the  broken  bits  of  the  frame  on  the  floor. 
I  stood  gazing  at  it  in  despair.  'That  is  how 
you  get  punished  for  your  idolatry!'  she  said 
with  a  laugh;  'you  had  better  not  call  me 
a  goddess  again;  a  nice  end  to  your  love- 
making! !'  The  picture  itself  was  fortunately  in 
perfect  condition.  What  should  I  do  now,  if 
I  had  not  got  it  to  look  at  every  day?" 

During  this  conversation,  the  crow  had 
hopped  under  the  bench,  between  Goesting's 
legs  and  back  again,  stood  for  a  moment, 
looking  up  at  him  evidently  undecided  as  to 
which  course  to  take,  then  hopped  on  to 
Goesting's  knees,  pecking  at  the  feathers  under 
its  wings  and  smoothing  them  down.  Occasio- 
nally Goesting  stroked  its  head  gently. 

Goesting  scarcely  spoke  all  the  afternoon. 
What  could  he  say? 

But  when  Senserff  rose  to  go,  there  was 
one  more  man  who  felt  lighter  at  heart  after 
putting  his  troubles  into  words,  one  more  man 
who  went  his  way  with  a  happier  face.  —  "You 
must  come  again,  sir,"  the  old  man  said,  "you 
must  come  again." 

And  long  after  the  minister  had  gone  up 
the  road  towards  the  village,  the  little  leaves 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  287 

of  the  apple  trees  near  the  bench  quarrelled 
with  the  sun,  as  to  who  had  won,  the  leaves  with 
their  shade,  or  the  sunshine.  But  the  sun  shone 
cheerfully  until  the  evening  fell,  for,  judging 
by  the  minister's  face  as  he  left,  the  rays  of 
sunshine  had  certainly  won  the  day. 

But  the  crow  had  its  own  thoughts  on  the 
subject.  It  sat  perched  on  the  rim  of  the  rain 
tank  near  the  waH,  and  looked  wisely  at  the 
trees  and  at  the  Sun.  "Still  they  quarrel,"  the 
crow  thought  scornfully;  "and  they  do  not 
know  that  it  was  Goesting  who  did  it.  They 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  minister's  happier 
face:  Goesting  did  it!  But  how  could  they 
possibly  know  that?  They  do  not  mix  with  the 
people  as  I  do!" 


Jens,  Kedde's  wife,  also  came  to  see  Goesting 
frequently. 

Jens  and  Kedde  were  among  those  who 
received  parochial  relief.  They  lived  in  the 
village  at  the  end  of  a  back  street.  It  was 
a  disagreable  part  of  the  village  to  live  in; 
the  narrow  street  was  full  of  rubbish  and 
mud  and  broken  bits  of  glass;  any  one  who 
wished  to  reach  one  of  the  little  houses  was 
forced  to  take  long  steps,  in  order  to  avoid 


288        GOESTING,  THE  DEACON 

putting  his  feet  into  all  that  dirt.  But  Jens 
and  Kedde  could  not  help  that;  they  kept 
their  little  house  and  also  themselves  and  their 
children  clean  and  tidy.  Besides  what  she 
received  from  the  poor  fund  of  the  Church, 
Jens  was  allowed  to  come  to  Goesting's  farm 
occasionally,  to  hear  whether  his  wife  had 
anything  to  give  to  the  children. 

And  when  she  came,  she  often  found  him 
in  his  cornfields,  which  lay  near  the  orchard 
in  front  of  his  house. 

"Go  in,"  Goesting  would  say;  "my  wife 
knows  you  are  coming,  and  I  think  she  has 
something  for  you." 

But  Jens  would  not  do  that,  for  she  was 
very  fond  of  a  chat,  so  she  remained  standing 
near  the  corn-field  and  always  had  a  good 
deal  to  say  for  herself;  and  while  she  talked, 
Goesting  remained  standing  too;  for  he  must 
be  polite,  even  to  a  poor  woman.  He  could 
not  have  brought  himself  to  say:  "Oh,  for 
goodness'  sake,  stop  and  go  away!"  And  the 
kindly  smile  on  his  face  kept  the  woman  from 
knowing  that  he  was  too  busy  really  to  listen 
to  her  chatter. 

"Listen,  Goesting,"  she  said,  and  she  picked 
at  the  long  ears  of  corn  which  reached  almost 
to  her  shoulders;  "listen,  Goesting,"  and  the 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  289 

story  which  followed  was  never  very  short. 
It  was  generally  about  the  children,  who  were 
getting  on  so  well  at  school.  Goesting  had 
never  had  children  himself,  yet  it  did  not  tire 
him  to  hear  about  them.  All  he  did  on  such  an 
occasion  was  to  move  out  of  the  sun  and 
to  go  and  stand  in  the  shade  of  the  High  elms ; 
then  he  would  light  his  pipe,  as  he  was  forced 
to  be  Idle  at  any  rate.  But  that  smoking  made 
Jens  forget  altogether  that  she  should  not 
stand  talking  too  long  to  a  farmer  on  a  summer 
afternoon. 

"And  then  I  must  tell  you  this,"  she  would 
say  as  she  picked  one  of  the  blue  cornflowers 
which  grew  in  thousands  among  the  golden 
corn.  And  she  would  start  talking  about  Kedde 
himself,  —  Kedde  who  was  so  stupid  that 
she  had  always  to  piush  him  on  and  tell  him 
what  to  do.  She  could  not  understand  how 
a  man  could  be  so  stupid;  it  was  a  good  tHing 
he  had  her  to  look  after  hjim.  But  he  was  good, 
and  she  had  never  shed  a  tear  about  him  during 
all  the  years  of  their  married  life,  and  very 
few  women  living  in  her  back  street  could  say 
the  same  about  their  husbands. 

"You  must  not  stand  picking  ait  those  ears 
of  corn,"  Goesting  sometimes  ventured  to  say; 
"it  is  our  food."  This  unusual  reproof,  coming 

it 


290        GOESTING,  THE  DEACON 

from  a  man  who  was  even  more  gentle  than 
Kedde,   almost   frightened   the   woman. 

A  loud  burst  of  laughter  rose  up  from  the 
corn,  and  the  heads  bent  close  together  and 
shook  and  rippled.  "Will  Goesting  eat  us? 
Nonsense,  Jens,  it  is  not  true!  Every  year 
we  stand  here,  and  grow  as  well  as  we  can,  and 
we  allow  ourselves  to  be  cut,  and  afterwards 
we  are  threshed  over  there  in  the  barn. 
But  he  does  not  eat  us,  nor  does  his  wife; 
at  least,  their  share  is  not  worth  speaking 
of!  What  good  is  a  huge  corn-field  like  this 
to  two  old  people?  No,  shall  we  tell  you  what 
happens,  Jens?  You  get  it  in  the  winter,  you 
and  your  children  eat  it  all  up;  we  are  given 
away  to  you  and  the  other  poor  by  bushels ; 
it  is  all  given  away.  And  he  always  pretends 
that  it  is  not  t:ue,  and  that  he  finishes  it  all 
himself !  He  is  a  good  hypocrite,  that  Goesting ! 
Surely  we  know  better  than  any  one  else. 
Oh,  Goesting,  Goesting  1"  And  the  corn  laughed 
and  rippled  and  bent  over  to  Jens,  who  stood 
there  with  her  hands  under  her  apron;  and 
the  ears  of  corn  which  were  nearest  her  bent 
their  heads  over  into  her  apron,  as  if  they  were 
saying:  "Go  on,  Jens,  pick  us  now  and  cover 
us  up  with  your  apron;  that  is  where  we  must 
end  in  any  case!" 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  291 

The  woman  understood  all  the  corn  said 
to  her,  and  she  laughed  with  the  corn,  and 
away  in  a  corner,  in  the  shade  of  the  elm  trees, 
stood  Goesting,  and  he  laughed  top. 

Was  there  ever  a  man  in  Eastloorn  who 
spread  cheerfulness  about  him  as  he  did,  and 
that  without  saying  a  word,  just  by  being 
silent  ? 

And  many  people  came  to  "the  Haandrik," 
although  it  was  far  from  the  village,  and 
although  the  walk  on  a  stormy  autumn  evening 
or  a  dark  winter  night  could  not  be  pleasant. 
They  came,  and  they  brought  their  troubles 
and  their  sorrows  with  them,  and  they  went 
homewards  without  those  cares,  and  difficul- 
ties, and  troubles. 

Sometimes  the  doctor  would  come,  even 
though  there  was  no  one  ill  at  the  farm ;  for  tlhat 
poor  doctor  had  a  very  disagreable  wife,! 

Harders  had  been  there  at  the  time  when 
he  had  sent  Jade  away,  and  when  he  could 
tell  no  one  but  Goesting  that  he  was  not  aj 
peace  with  himself  about  it. 

Joop  had  been  driven  there  on  one  occasion, 
with  a  vague  longing  to  be  good  and  turn 
over  a  new  leaf,  and  he  had  offered  hiis 
services;  and  Goesting  had  actually  promised 


292        GOESTING,  THE  DEACON 

to  take  him  at  Easter,  that  being  the  time 
of  year  when  the  farmers  exchanged  their 
men.  But,  when  Easter  was  there,  Joop's 
longing  to  be  good  was  a  thing  of  the  past, 
and  he  was  being  tossed  about  on  that  stormy 
sea,  where  his  ship  seemed  always  to  be  until 
it  should  be  thrown  to  bits  against  a  rock. 

Ilting,  the  bell-ringer,  had  been  there,  at 
the  time  when,  as  he  thought  himself,  he  had 
cheated  the  schoolmaster  out  of  two  hundred 
guilders. 

Walter,  the  minister,  had  been  theje, 
although  Goesting  belonged  to  the  other 
Church;  it  was  said  that  Walter  had  tried  to 
get  him  to  come  back  to  the  Reformed  Church. 

"Walter  must  not  do  that!"  the  Dissenters 
had  remarked.  "Why  not?"  the  Reformed 
answered.  "If  we  can  get  him  back,  Walter  will 
have  done  a  good  deed !"  Wiegen,  the  Dreamer, 
had  laughed  at  this,  and  said:  "What  does 
it  matter  to  which  party  he  belongs?  He  is 
one  of  the  Kingdom,  in  any  case!"  But  no  one 
ever  found  out  why  it  was  that  Wajter  came 
to  the  "Haandrik,"  for  Goesting  could  be  very 
silent!  Only  the  tame  crow  knew,  the  tame 
crow  which  sat  on  his  knee,  pecking  its  feathers, 
while  Goesting  stroked  its  black  head  with 
his  rough  hand.  "I  should  not  have  imagined 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  293 

that   that    cheerful   Walter   could   have    such 
deep  sorrows,"  the  crow  said. 

Everyone  came  to  the  "Haandrik,"  everyone 
came!  And  it  was  wpnderful  how  much  they 
all  had  to  talk  about,  although  Goesting  said 
so  very  little  himself  Ah,  why  should  he  talk, 
when  all  thosie  other  people  had  so  much  to 
say?  For  must  there  not  always  be  one  who 
listens  ? 

Oh,  good  Goesting,  go  on  living  in  this 
manner  for  the  few  years  which  you  still  Kave 
to  live! 

But  Eastloorn  will  not  be  the  same  place 
when  you  are  no  longer  there.  How  will  Dreese 
do  without  you?  Which  of  the  others  will 
know  and  understand  that  righteous  man  as 
you  do,  and  who  will  listen  to  him  for  hours 
at  a  time,  when  he  is  holding  forth  in  his 
sneering  way,  which  he  cannot  really  help, 
because  he  has  been  given  a  sharper  eyesight 
than  his  neighbours?  How  wjll  Senserff  do 
without  you,  Senserff,  who  will  never  talk 
about  his  dead  wife  to  anyone  but  you,  because 
he  considers  that  only  very  holy  ears  are 
fit  to  hear  these  things  ?  And  how  will  everyone 
do  without  you,  when  you  are  no  more  there? 

Oh,    good    Goesting,    go   on    living   in   this 


294        GOESTING,  THE  DEACON 

manner  the  few  years  which  you  still  have 
to  live.  But  the  "Haandrik"  also  will  be  a 
different  place  when  you  are  gone!  For  how 
will  the  flowering  apple  trees  near  the  bench 
do  without  you,  and  the  sunbeams  which 
shine  through  the  leaves?  And  what  will 
the  corn  do?  And  the  crow?  For  they 
cannot  really  talk,  those  apple  blossoms, 
and  those  sunbeams,  and  that  crow,  and 
that  corn!  They  all  know  that  quite  well! 
They  only  talked  and  laughed  as  long  as 
you  were  with  them;  you  made  them  do  it. 
Oh,  Goesting,  when  you  are  no  more  there, 
then  those  trees  and  birds  and  plants  will 
be  like  all  the  trees  and  birds  and  plants 
in  all  the  other  farms  and  gardens  in 
Eastloorn! 


IX 
EDO 

Walter  had  overtaken  Wiegen,  the  Dreamer, 
as  they  were  both  walking  on  the  main  road, 
Walter  always  took  very  long  steps,  and  the 
usual  way  for  anyone  in  Eastloorn  to  walk 
was  that  of  a  person  who  is  not  pressed  for 
time.  So  Walter  was  very  soon  walking  beside 
Wiegen,  and  the  two  men  fell  into  step 
together. 

"This  is  a  fine  open  country,  Wiegejx!" 
the  minister  said.  "Look  at  those  high  walls 
of  white  sand;  it  is  as  if  we  are  walking  on 
the  downs.  And  just  look  at  those  pine  trees, 
hanging  over  the  downs,  as  if  they  were  curious 
to  see  what  is  happening  on  the  road;  how 
beautiful  that  dark  green  looks  against  the 
white  sand  I  I  nevej  knew  I  should  like  this 
place  so  much  when  I  accepted  the  call  to 
yovyr  parish  i  And  just  look  straight  ahead, 
and  see  how  the  road  slopes  gently  towards  the 


296  EDO 

flat  country,  near  Wemel's  old  birches.  What 
a  wide  view  one  has  from  this  point!" 

"Sir,  you  talk  as  if  the  weather  were  fine," 
Wiegen  answered,  "and  as  if  it  were  not 
raining.  Do  you  not  feel  the  rain,  sir,  and  do 
you  not  mind  getting  wet  ?" 

"Of  course  I  know  it  is  raining,  and  I 
am  getting  wet  too!  But  what  does  it  matter? 
Few  people  who  live  in  a  town  know  the 
beauty  of  the  country  in  rainy  weather.  True, 
in  town  it  rains  quite  differently  to  what  it 
does  here.  In  town  one  is  a  man  in  the  rain, 
a  man  with  fine  clothes  on,  which  are  spoiled 
if  they  get  we?t;  here,  in  the  country,  one 
is  like  a  tree  which  rejoices  in  getting  wet, 
and  gets  new  life  from  the  raindrops  without 
which  it  could  not  live.  Let  it  rain;  it  is  nice, 
nice,  without  the  trouble  of  holding  up  an 
umbrella  until  one's  arm  is  aching.  I  am  a 
tree,  Wiegen,  a  tree,  and  I  am  as  much  in 
my  element  in  the  rain  as  in  sunshine." 

"I  see  you  have  followed  our  custom,  sir, 
in  not  using  an  umbrella;  we  use  one  only 
at  a  funeral,  and  I  really  cannot  tell  why 
we  do  it  then.  I  think  it  iSs  to  look  more  solemn 
than  otherwise,  for  even  in  fine  weather  we 
always  carry  an  umbrella  at  a  funeral." 

As  Walter  walked,   joyful   and  strong,   his 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  297 

eyes  seemed  to  be  full  of  the  sunshine  which 
was  wanting  in  nature.  It  was  a  ridiculous 
idea,  of  course,  but  he  almost  thought  he 
would  not  mind  throwing  off  his  clothes,  so 
that  he  could  get  thoroughly  wet  and  feel  the 
fresh  water  on  all  his  muscles.  What  person 
living  in  a  town,  he  thought,  could  possibly 
know  the  joy  of  a  long  walk  through  a  pretty 
country  in  the  vernal  rain,  feeling  as  strong 
as  a  young  plant  spreading  out  all  its  leaves 
wide  to  catch  the  drops  of  rain? 

On  the  subject  of  nature  Walter  was  a 
great  enthusiast;  his  intense  love  of  nature 
amounted  almost  to  a  fanaticism.  How  could 
he  help  it? 

Wiegen,  however,  was  like  the  rest  of  the 
people  in  Eastloorn;  he  merely  put  up  with 
nature.  He  put  up  with  rain;  he  put  up  with 
sunshine;  he  put  up  with  the  heat;  he  put 
up  with  the  cold.  He  suffered  it  all  equably, 
with  the  equableness  of  people  who  have 
learned  to  treat  nature  as  an  enemy  which 
only  after  a  fierce  struggle  yields  the  gifts 
which  they  need  for  existence.  This  equable- 
ness did  not  make  him  rejoice  in  the  sunshine, 
or  grieve  in  the  rain.  Like  all  other  farmers 
in  the  district,  he  knew  rain  in  its  wettest, 
and  sunshine  in  its  hottest  form. 


298  EDO 

Wiegen  was  not  actually  thinking  of  the 
rain,  or  of  the  landscape.  "I  was  thinking, 
sir,"  he  remarked,  "what  a  big  world  this  is!" 

"How   do   you   mean?"   Walter   asked. 

"We  people  here  always  seem  to  imagine 
that  this  is  the  world  where  we  live,  and 
that,  outside  of  Eastloorn,  there  is  no  world. 
We  are  real  egoists  to  think  in  that  way!" 

Walter  did  not  quite  follow  the  Dreamer's 
idea  yet.  *  • 

"Well,"  said  Wiegen.  ''the  best  man  in  our 
parish  is  undoubtedly  Edo,  Ubbo's  son,  who 
went  away  as  a  missionary  to  the  heathen 
about  six  years  ago.  I  was  thinking  about 
Edo.  He  is  really  the  only  one  among  us 
who  understood  that  the  world  is  immense, 
and  that  Eastloorn  is  not  the  world.  We  are 
all  egoists,  who  stick  to  our  own,  and  stay 
with  our  own  kith  and  kin.  But  he  was  not 
selfish;  he  left  us,  although  he  was  fond  of 
us;  and  he  went  to  a  distant  nation,  to  see 
what  he  could  make  of  them.  Who  shall  deliver 
us  from  our  selfishness,  sir?" 

"Do  you  also  want  to  be  a  missionary, 
Wiegen?" 

"Certainly  I  should  like  to!  But  I  cannot; 
I  am  an  egoist;  and  I  am  a  man  who  only 
just  escaped  being  a  failure  altogether;  I  am 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  299 

stupid  too;  and  a  missionary  must  be  a  clever 
man." 

"Was  this  Edo  a  clever  man,  then?" 
"You  should  hear  the  old  schoolmaster  talk 
about  that;  he  taught  him  and  wished  to  make 
a  minister  of  him.  'A  missionary  need  not 
study  so  much  as  a  minister,'  the  master 
always  used  to  say;  'and  Edo  has  a  better 
head  than  a  missionary  requires!'  But  we 
thought  that  this  opinion  was  only  due  to 
a  little  pardonable  pride,  such  as  a  school- 
master often  shows  in  boasting  of  his  pupils." 
"Did  you  know  him  well,  Wiegen  ?" 
"Know  him?  Know  him  well?  No,  sir.  For 
who  is  there  who  has  looked  much  into  the 
soul  of  his  neighbour,  and  can  say  to  himself: 
'I  know  him  well!'  Most  people  are  so  deep 
that  life  is  too  short  to  fathom  the  depth  of  a 
soul,  even  of  a  friend.  Perhaps  you  will  one 
day  peep  into  such  a  soul  as  Crazy  Ake's, 
and  you  may  be  surprised  at  the  depth  of 
it.  But  I  used  to  be  on  very  friendly  terms 
with  Edo.  You  see,  Edo  has  been  among 
the  heathen  for  six  years,  and  he  studied 
for  four  years  in  Holland,  so  that  it  is 
ten  years  ago  since  he  left  us.  But  before 
that  time  I  saw  a  great  deal  of  him,  and  he 
was  a  friend  to  me.  Also  when  he  came  home 


300  EDO 

to  the  village  sometimes  during  his  years  of 
study,  the  two  of  us  were  always  together. 
He  often  sat  with  me  on  Scheper's  moor, 
under  the  three  birches,  when  I  looked  after 
the  sheep." 

"A  good  thing  he  was  not  such  a  dreamer 
as  you  were  in  those  days,"  Walter  laughed. 

"Sir.  do  not  joke  about  it,  please,"  and 
Wiegen  looked  at  him  honestly;  "that 
was  a  terrible  illness,  and  God  delivered  me 
from  it!" 

Walter  understood  that  he  had  made  a 
thoughtless  remark,  and  he  hastened  to  return 
to  their  original  point.  But  it  was  not  necessary, 
for  Wiegen,  with  much  tact,  had  skilfully  come 
back  to  their  first  subject  of  conversation, 
as  if  he  were  afraid  of  having  shown  the 
minister  too  plainly  that  he  had  not  attained 
the  standard  of  delicate  discernment  of  his 
parishioners. 

"Many  people  here  thought  it  strange  of 
him,  at  first,  to  go  so  far  away;  and  then  to 
the  heathen !  It  was  fanaticism,  they  said.  They 
also  thought  he  wanted  to  be  uncommon,  and 
it  is  the  worst  thing  one  can  possibly  be 
here  to  wish  to  be  tuicommon!  When  he 
came  back  for  the  first  time  during  his 
years  of  study,  he  wotre  different  clothes  to 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  301 

those  hie  left  in;  he  wore  clothes  such  as 
the  people  in  town  wear;  such  as  you  have 
on  yourself,  sir.  'Look,'  they  said,  'he  wants 
to  be  a  gentleman!'  Also  he  had  let  his 
moustache  grow,  a  thing  that  no  one  in 
the  village  ever  does.  He  wore  a  hat  too, 
instead  of  a  cap,  when  he  walked  through 
the  village  on  his  way  to  his  father's 
house.  The  people  were  afraid  that  he  had 
become  conceited.  They  did  not  like  him 
at  all,  at  first!  And  that  was  quite  natural, 
for  he  was  certainly  different  to  the  others! 
But  very  soon  their  feelings  changed.  For 
early  the  next  morning  the  peat-workers  saw 
him  help  his  father  to  fish  in  the  river.  'How 
late  you  are,'  he  cried  out  cheerfully,  'our 
boat  is  half  full  of  fish  already;  it  seems  that 
we  town's-people  can  get  up  earlier  than  you 
can.'  The  peat-workers  liked  it  in  him,  that  he 
was  not  too  proud  to  help  his  father  with 
the  fishing,  and  they  began  to  praise  him 
to  others.  And  every  morning  during  his 
holidays  they  saw  him  do  the  same  thing.  And 
that  was  not  all  he  did.  You  know,  sir,  that 
Ubbo  has  a  ferry,  so  that  the  people  can  cross 
the  river  at  any  time  during  the  day  or  night. 
Well,  whenever  anyone  came  to  this  side 
and  shouted  'Ahoy!'  they  would  see  Edo 


302  EDO 

coming  out  of  his  father's  house  on  the  other 
side,  jumping  into  the  boat  and  rowing  it 
across.  He  was  ferryman  instead  of  his  father 
in  the  holidays;  and  he  did  his  duty  in  the 
daytime  and  at  night  during  all  these  weeks. 
And  all  those  who  were  ferried  over  spoke 
well  of  him;  there  was  no  conceit  about  him. 
When  he  walked  through  the  village  he  would 
have  a  chat  with  anyone  he  met;  his  accent 
was  just  the  same  as  when  he  left  as;  he 
talked  no  differently  to  the  rest  ol  the  people. 
He  often  stood  beside  me  in  the  field  when 
I  was  in  Goesting's  service,  and  he  would 
take  a  spade  and  work  with  me  for  hours  at 
a  time.  The  people  heard  of  these  things 
and  then  they  said:  'He  is  still  the  same; 
he  is  as  the  .rest  of  us.'  And  so  he  won  back 
the  favour  of  the  village,  and  now,  now  we 
all  consider  it  a  great  honour  that  an  East- 
loom  man  is  working  among  the  heathen.  Just 
let  the  people  of  Southloorn  come  and  tell 
us  that  they  have  sent  out  a  man  to  work 
among  the  heathen !  Edo  is  a  man  who  belongs 
to  all  of  us.  He  must  be!  a  great  man  now,  so 
we  hear.  But  we  all  think  that  if  he  came  back 
now,  the  next  day  he  would  be  helping  his 
father  with  the  fishing  and  doing  his  father's 
work  at  the  ferry,  as  he  used  to.  Just  ask  anyone 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  303 

about  him,  sir,  and  you  will  find  that  I  have 
not  exaggerated." 

"Am  I  right  in  thinking  that  you  have  a 
special  reason  to  speak  well  of  him,  Wiegen?" 

"Yes,  sir;  in  my  eyes  a  missionary  is  the 
best  proof  that  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  is 
greater  than  any  Church  I  And  the  people  here 
are  beginning  to  realize  it  more  and  more,  when 
they  hear  about  his  work,  —  the  Kingdom, 
the  Kingdom  is  coming!  What  about  the  poor 
Churches  then?'' 

Then  Wiegen  turned  into  a  side  road  and 
the  two  men  shook  hands  and  parted, 

Walter  bent  down  a  moment  to  let  the  water 
drip  from  his  hat;  then  he  took  the  hat  off 
his  head,  shook  it  well,  and  put  it  on  again. 

Wiegen  held  his  head  high  so  that  the  water 
dripped  into  the  collar  of  his  coat;  he  did  not 
turn  his  head  away  from  the  rain ;  he  suffered  it. 

"You  are  a  good  lot,  all  of  you!"  Walter 
murmured,  as  he  walked  on  cheerfully, 
thinking  of  Wiegen,  and  of  Edo,  as  Wiegen 
had  described  him.  A  moment  later,  when  he 
arrived  at  the  poor  cottage  of  a  sick  person, 
he  shook  the  water  off  his  back  and  shoulders. 

"Are  you  visiting  the  sick,  even  in  this  rainy 
weather,  sir?"  the  man  there  exclaimed. 

And  Walter  laughed;  he   laughed   because 


304  EDO 

what   gave    him   pleaspre    was   co,unted   as   a 
virtue. 


A  letter  had  come  from  Edo  for  his  father, 
Ubbo,  the  fisherman,  from  the  East  Indies. 
His  letters  came  with  great  regularity,  and 
it  was  a  curious  thing  that  everyone  in  the 
village  thought  he  had"  a  right  to  know  what 
was  in  those  letters.  "Is  he  not  our  represen- 
tative in  that  distant  country,  and  can  we  not 
be  proud  of  him?  He  is  one  of  us,  and  he 
belongs  to  us  all,"  the  members  of  both 
churches  were  wont  to  say.  And  for  that  reason 
they  considered  it  the  right  thing  to  take 
cognisance  of  all  he  wrote.  It  was  not  mere 
curiosity,  it  was  their  duty  to  know  it. 

Ubbo  was  not  at  all  secretive,  either,  about 
his  son's  letters.  He  looked  upon  them  almost 
as  common  property,  and  he  was  very  willing 
to  let  anyone  who  came  to  see  him  read  them. 
And  so  the  news  was  soon  spread  into  even 
the  farthest  huts  on  the  moor.  And  in  the 
winter  evenings  the  men  and  women,  even 
those  who  lived  far  away  among  the  pineh 
woods,  sat  round  the  fire,  talking  about  things 
which  happened  in  that  distant  country, 
thousands  of  miles  away. 

Dreese  was  one  of  those  who  came  regularly 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  305 

to  hear  the  contents  of  those  letters.  In  the 
beginning  he  had  not  been  very  pleased  with 
the  idea  that  an  Eastloorn  man  had  become 
a  missionary.  Dreese  could  not  put  up  with 
a  person  who  wishe'd  to  be  original.  But  he 
had  changed  his  mind,  like  all  the  others.  And 
Edo's  own  father  could  not  be  more  anxious 
for  news  than  he  was.  Yet  Dreese  was  very 
careful  not  to  show  how  proud  he  was  of 
the  man  who  was  showing  the  natives  of 
those  distant  countries  where  he  worked  what 
good  people  there  were  in  Eastloorn. 

Another  letter  had  come,  and  one  or  two 
people  had  read  ft,  and  in  the  evening,  on 
the  Square,  the  news  was  told  to  the  other 
men.  It  was  in  the  twilight,  and  it  was  dark 
already  under  the  old  oaks,  otherwise  one  might 
have  seen  many  eager  faces  and  sparkling 
eyes  while  the  story  was  being  told.  And 
many  a  young  man  would  have  said,  if  he 
had  only  dared,  that  he  would  not  mind  going 
out  there  as  a  missionary  too. 

"It  is  not  a  bad  job!"  Dreese  suddenly 
said,  when  he  had  finished  his  story;  "not 
a  bad  job,  to  be  a  missionary  I" 

This  remark  was  rather  a  wet  blanket  on  the 
people's  quiet  enthusiasm.  There  were  always 
a  good  many  who  failed  to  understand  Dreese. 


3o6  EDO 

"Do  you  think  Edo  became  a  missionary 
because  it  is  not  a  bad  job?"  Raders  said 
quickly;  and  it  might  have  sounded  sharp, 
if  any  but  an  Eastloorn  man  had  said  it. 

"Of  course  not,"  Dreese  answered  compos- 
edly; "but  no  one  knows  himself  well  enough 
to  be  sure  that  his  noblest  deeds  are  not 
prompted  by  selfishness.  Do  you  think  any 
of  us  is  without  egotism?  And  do  you  think 
Edo  is  any  better  than  the  rest  of  us?" 

"Dreese  is  only  trying  to  rub  us  up  the 
wrong  way,"  Raders  thought;  "and  he  is 
tempting  us  to  say  things  which  we  might  be 
sorry  for  afterwards.  It  amuses  him,  and  so 
I  will  draw  him  on.  T  am  quite  prepared." 

"You  know  as  well  as  I  do,"  he  said,  aloud, 
"that  Edo  had  no  wish  to  better  himself  when 
he  became  a  missionary.  And  how  can  anyone 
say  then  that  he  chose  that  profession  in 
order  to  be  greater  than  we  are  ?" 

"What  would  he  have  been  if  he  had 
stayed  at  home?  A  fisherman,  of  course,  like 
his  father,  and  a  ferryman  who  rows  the  people 
across  for  two  cents  each  and  ten  cents  in 
the  winter,  when  thare  is  ice!  He  was  quite 
right  to  take  the  old  minister's  advice  and 
study  for  a  missionary.  He  is  a  gentleman 
now,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  gets  well 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  307 

paid  too!  Only  the  other  day  he  sent  his 
father  a  hundred  guilders !  A  poor  man  cannot 
do  that!" 

"It  surprises  me,  Ehfeese,  that  you  have  not 
yet  suggested  that  we  should  stop  the  quar- 
terly collection  for  the  Mission.  What  is  the 
use  of  that,  if  the  missionaries  are  so  well  off, 
and  earn  so  much  money  that  they  can  save! 
I  know  that  Edo  suffers  for  it  himself,  when 
he  helps  his  father,  and  you  know  that  as  well 
as  I  do.  Just  think  of  the  house  he  lives  in; 
it  is  not  as  good  as  yours,  for  he  had  to  build 
it  himself  of  wood  and  cane,  which  he  found  in 
that  country.  He  also  built  his  own  church 
of  the  same  materials.  I  should  like  to  see 
you  sitting  there  on  those  wooden  benches 
without  backs;  you  who  are  accustomed  to 
sit  in  a  side  pew,  under  a  canopy,  higher  than 
the  other  people.  I  suppose  it  is  because  he 
is  rich  that  he  builds  such  houses  and 
churches!  And  as  to  the  clothes  which  he 
wears,  you  saw  them  for  yourself  in  the  photo- 
gl'aph  which  he  once  sent  —  a  thin  pair  of 
trousers  and  a  little  coat;  that  is  all.  And  did 
you  not  read  in  one  of  his  letters  that  his 
food  consists  largely  of  rice  every  day,  and 
that  when  they  forget  to  send  the  flour  he 
has  to  do  without  bread  for  threte  months 


308  EDO 

at  a  time  ?  How  would  you  like  to  live  without 
bread  for  three  months?  'Father,'  he  once 
wrote  to  Ubbo,  'it  is  not  a  bad  thing,  really, 
when  the  steamer  does  not  come,  for  then 
our  money  lasts  so  much  longer!'  How  do 
you  picture  the  life  of  a  missionary  in  the 
dark  interior  of  the  East  Indies?" 

Dreese's  face  lighted  up  with  a  knowing 
smile,  as  if  he  was  glad  of  this  opportunity 
to  let  the  o;her  people  find  out  what  the 
self-denial  of  a  missionary  is.  And  Goesting, 
who  knew  Dreese  better  than  anyone  else 
in  the  village,  thought:  "Dreese  is  only  doing 
that  to  make  Raders  talk,  so  that  everyone 
may  know  what  an  Eastloorn  man  can  do, 
when  he  gives  himself  to  a  good  cause!" 

And  Radeis  did  talk.  "Edo  did  not  do  it 
to  be  honoured!  For  do  you  remember  the 
first  letter  wKicn  he  wrote  to  his  father?  It 
was  on  the  steamer,  men,"  and  here  Raders 
turned  to  all  who  stood  on  the  Square,  — 
"it  was  on  the  steame.r,  and  Edo,  who  was  a 
steerage  passenger,  was  forced  to  remain 
between  decks.  The  first-class  passengers  have 
no  intercourse  with  the  steerage  passengers. 
His  companions  were  soldiers  and  petty  officers 
on  their  way  to  Achin.  There  are  many  good 
men  among  those  who  enlist  for  the  East,  but 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  309 

there  are  some  very  rough  ones  too.  One  fine 
day  a  seeidy-looking  petty  officer  said  to  him,  as 
they  were  standing  in  a  group :  'Are  you  going 
to  convert  the  heathen,  missionary  ?  You  would 
have  done  better  to  remain  in  your  village; 
there  are  plenty  of  heathen  there!'  Before  Edo 
had  time  to  answer  him,  however,  a  sergeant 
took  his  part,  and  said :  'Silly  idiot,  if  the 
heathen  in  Holland  run  away  from  their  village 
and  go  to  the  East,  as  you  do,  surely  a  missi- 
onary must  go  after  them,  if  he  wants  to 
convert  them!  How  could  this  gentleman 
possibly  get  hold  of  you,  if  he  had  stayed 
in  his  village,  as  you  wanted  him  to  do  I  So 
hold  your  tongue,  please!'  Edo  came  out  of 
it  with  flying  colours  that  time,  but  he  was 
beginning  to  understand  more  and  more  that 
his  profession  would  not  make  him  great;  he 
was  on  his  way  to  a  country  where  a,  drunkard 
would  have  more  to  say  than  he.  Such  a 
thing  seems  impossible  to  us  in  Eastloorn." 

Raders  paused  a  moment  to  take  breath, 
and  Dreese  was  silent,  so  he  went  on. 

"Two  days  later  there  was  another  incident. 
It  was  in  the  evening;  the  ship  was  gliding 
gently  across  the  sea;  there  was  not  a  breath 
of  wind;  nothing  was  heard  but  the  noise  of 
the  engine  and  the  screw.  The  afternoon  had 


3io  EDO 

been  very  hot,  and  the  ladies  and  gentlemen 
were  gently  pacing  up  and  down  the  deck. 
Thousands  of  stars  shone  in  the  sky,  and 
the  silvery  moon  was  almost  hidden  by  the 
black  smoke  which  came  out  of  the  funnel. 
THat  must  be  a  fine  sight,  men,  a  clear  night 
on  the  sea,  I  The  cool  night  air  surrounded 
the  ship,  and  the  people  began  to  wake  up. 
All  of  a  sudden  an  old  planter  took  hold  of 
a  young  girl,  and,  before  they  knew  what 
they  were  doing,  they  were  dancing,  and  the 
rest  soon  followed.  Someone  sat  down  at  the 
piano  and  played,  and  Edo,  leaning  over  the 
bulwarks  with  his  young  wife,  could  hear  it 
all.  They  were  looking  down  into  the  deep  water 
and  across  the  wide  sea,  thinking  of  us  in 
Eastloorn,  of  the  beautiful  nights  which  we 
have  here.  Dancing  was  in  full  swing,  when, 
suddenly,  they  saw  the  old  planter  standing 
beside  Edo's  wife.  You  all  know  what  a  pretty 
girl  Edo  married,  and  many  a  first-class  passen- 
ger had  left  the  quarter-deck  and  lengthened 
his  walk  to  the  steerage  in  order  to  have  a  look 
at  her.  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  the  old  planter 
was  suddenly  standing  beside  Edo's  wife.  'All 
the  gentlemen  are  wanting  you  to  come  and 
dance  on  the  quarter-deck!'  he  said.  —  'And 
my  husband,'  she  retorted,  'what  do  they  want 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  311 

him  to  do  ?'  —  'Oh,  the  missionary,  we  do'  not 
want  him!'  the  planter  actually  answered.  — 
You  can  imagine  what  Edo  felt  like.  He  stood 
with  clenched  fists,  keeping  himself,  with  a 
tremendous  effort,  from  punching  the  man's 
red  nose.  You  know  what  a  strong  mail  Edo 
always  was,  and  it  would  have  cost  the  planter 
his  life.  One  knock  with  those  fists  would  have 
done  for  him.  But,  of  course,  Edo  restrained 
himself,  although  the  effort  almost  took  away 
his  breath,  as  he  leaned  over  the  bulwarks, 
turning  away  from  his  enemy,  so  that  he  should 
not  be  tempted  to  strike  him  after  all.  'May 
God  forgive  him  for  what  he  has  done  to  my 
wife,'  he  muttered.  And  what  do  you  think 
his  wife  did  ?  She  just  put  her  arm  round  his 
neck,  and  gazed  with  him  into  the  deep  water, 
into  which  her  tqars  fell.  And  the  planter 
went  straight  back  to  the  quarter-deck,  arid 
his  laugh  was  so  loud  that  the  steerage  pas- 
sengers could  hear  it.  I  repeat,  Edo  knew,  and 
he  understood  it  more  and  more  as  time  went 
on,  that  he  had  not  chosen  a  profession  which 
would  make  him  great  in  the  sight  of  men; 
he  was  on  his  way  to  a  country  where  a 
wretched  fellow  like  that  had  far  more  say 
than  a  good  man.  Who  in  Eastloorn  can  picture 
such  a  thing?  The  world  is  not  all  as  it  is 


3i2  EDO 

here,  men!  And  everyone  has  not  the  same 
conception  of  civilisation.  But  I  can  safely 
say  that  a  good1  man  will  be  more  honoured 
here,  than  a  missionary  is  among  white  men 
in  that  distant  country." 

"You  tell  the  story  as  if  you  had  been 
present,"  Dreese  said,  with  a  touch  of  irony; 
"and  how  is  it  that  you  know  exactly  what  it  is 
like  on  board  one  of  those  steamers?  Who  told 
you  ?  It  is  almost  impossible  for  us,  living  in 
these  remote  parts,  even  to  picture  these  things." 

"I  have  read  it  all  in  his  letters.  But  it 
cannot  be  difficult  for  you,  Dreese,  to  picture 
it  all,  for  are  you  not  the  only  one  of  us  who 
has  ever  seen  one  of  those  steamers  ?  Did  you 
not  go  to  Amsterdam,  six  years  ago,  to  see 
Edo  off?  You  represented  Eastloorn  on  that 
occasion,  and  you  did  well,  man;  the  whole 
parish  was  grateful  to  you  for  it." 

Dreese  did  not  answer,  for  he  felt  a  little 
ashamed  when  he  remembered  that  he  had 
raised  himself  above  all  the  other  men  in 
the  village  in  doing  it.  And  Raders  knew 
why  Dreese  was  silent. 

But   Dreese   soon   pulled   himself   together. 

"I  am  glad  you  are  telling  them  all  this!" 
he  said,  "for  now  our  young  fellows  will  under- 
stand that  there  is  not  much  fun  in  being 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  313 

a  missionary.  One  is  not  paid  for  it,  and 
not  honoured  either;  and  are  not  money  and 
fame  the  most  important  things,  the  things 
we  all  strive  after?  An  Eastloorn  man  must 
never  go  in  for  it  again.  Do  you  all  hear  that  ?" 

And  so  saying  he  took  his  tobacco-pouch 
from  his  pocket  and  refilled  his  pipe.  He  lit 
it,  and  by  the  light  of  the  burning  match 
the  men's  faces  were  clearly  visible  under 
the  dark  trees.  At  the  same  time,  he  spat 
on  the  ground  once  or  twice,  as  was  his  habit. 
All  the  other  men  did  it  too,  and  they  were  very 
clever  in  not  doing  it  on  each  other's  boots, 
even  if  they  were  standing  close  together. 
The  boys  tried  hard  to  do  it  as  will  as  the 
grown-up  men. 

Raders  was  just  going  to  continue  his  story 
when  Walter  passed.  He  had  seen  what  Dreese 
did  as  he  lit  his  pipej,  and  he  saw  how  all  the 
other  men  did  the  same  thing,  every  moment. 
"Do  not  spit  so,  men!"  he  exclaimed;  "I  shall 
have  boards  nailed  on  to  the  trees,  as  in  the 
church,  with  the  notice :  Everyone  is  requested 
not  to  spit."  And,  so  saying,  he  disappeared 
in  the  dark. 

"The  mayor  had  better  not  dare  to  tell  us 
that!"  Dreese  said,  with  a  grin;  "but  the 
minister  has  a  right  to  say  it!"  And  no  one 


3i4  EDO 

made  a  remark  against  Walter,  who  had  dared 
to  touch  an  old  custom  which  had  existed 
in  Eastloorn  for  a  hundred  years  and  more. 

The  meeting  dispersed. 

Raders'  thoughts  were  with  Dreese,  as, 
coming  out  of  the  village,  he  walked  up  the 
path  which  Led  to  his  farm.  "I  know  quite  well 
why  he  talks  like  that.  He  is  afraid  that  we 
shall  be  too  proud  of  Edo.  But  he  himself  is 
prouder  than  any  of  us,  that  is  quite  clear. 
He  also  imagines  that  it  is  has  place  to  educate 
our  young  men.  For  all  he  says  is  with  the  pur- 
pose of  teaching  them  to  be  natural  and  never 
affected!"  With  these  thoughts  Raders  shut 
the  gate  of  his  garden,  and  disappeared  among 
the  high  trees  which  surrounded  his  house. 

Raders  was  not  far  wrong.  For,  curiously 
enough,  Dreese,  with  his  queer  sayings,  gave 
everyone  who  came  into  contact  with  him  as 
good  an  education  as  the  ministers  of  both 
Churches  could  possibly  wish  for.  And  Dreese 
was  quite  well  aware  of  the  fact  himself;  and, 
as  he  talked,  he  was  inwardly  amused,  but  it 
was  not  until  he  shut  the  door  of  his  grocer's 
shop  behind  him  that  a  smile  which  he  was 
forced  to  hide  outside  lit  up  his  face: 


Senserff,    the    minister    of    the    Dissenting 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  315 

Church,  was  on  his  way  to  Utrecht.  He  had 
to  change  at  Zwolle. 

He  looked  about  him  on  the  platform,  as 
a  person  does  to  whom  the  traffic  at  a  station 
is  not  an  everyday  occurrence,  and  who  does 
not  mind  changing  the  life  in  his  quiet 
village  for  a  more  exhilarating  one  for  a 
short  time. 

He  would  not  have  been  sorry  if  he  had 
had  a  few  minutes  to  spare.  He  remembered 
a  little  incident  which  had  taken  place  years 
ago  when  a  farmer  had  driven  him  to  the 
nearest  station.  He  had  laughed  at  the  time, 
but  now  he  began  to  understand.  "You  have 
driven  splendidly,"  Senserff  had  said;  "look, 
we  are  just  up  to  time,  the  train  is  coming  in; 
I  have  just  time  to  take  a  ticket!"  And  the 
farmer  had  answered:  "What  a  hurry  you  are 
in!  In  former  days,  when  I  sometimes  drove 
the  old  minister  to  the  omnibus  in  town,  we 
used  always  to  be  half  an  hour  too  soon.  But 
now,  with  the  train,  everything  goes  so  quickly, 
one  has  not  even  time  to  look  about!" 

"I  am  beginning  to  feel  like  a  farmer," 
Senserff  thought,  as  the  little  incident  came 
into  his  mind;  "arid  in  this  case  I  am  quite 
right  to  feel  as  a  farmer  does;  for  life  at 
a  station  is  quite  worth  contemplating,  although 


3i6  EDO 

most  travellers  are  in  too  gfreat  a  hurry  tq  think 
of  such  a  thing." 

Senserff,  however,  had  no  time  to  study 
the  traffic,  for  his  train  was  on  the  point  of 
starting,  and  he  got  into  a  second-class 
carriage.  He  always  travelled  second-class; 
also  he  had  always  remained  a  gentleman 
in  dress  and  manners,  even  in  his  remote 
village.  His  farmers  liked  him  for  it.  Those 
wise  men  knew  a  real  gentleman  when  they 
saw  one.  And  their  minister  was  a  real  gentle- 
man. They  often  compared  him  with  another 
minister,  who  had  been  in  a  neighbouring 
village  for  thirty  years,  and  who  had  become 
a  farmer  in  dress,  as  well  as  manners.  "A 
minister  must  not  be  a  farmer,"  they  would 
say,  "and  a  farmer  must  not  be  a  minister." 
The  people  in  Eastloorn  did  not  quite  know 
what  to  think  of  Walter,  who  was  far  more 
easy-going  than  Senserff.  They  knew  that  he 
always  travelled  third-class,  and  yet  they  were 
sure  he  was  a  real  gentleman  too. 

"Why  do  you  do  it?"  Senserff  had  once 
asked  Walter.  "It  cannot  be  on  account  of 
the  trifling  difference  in  expense;  you  are 
unmarried,  and  have  enough  to  live  on." 

"I  will  tell  you,"  Walter  had  said.  "To  begin 
with,  I  was  not  too  well  off  when  I  was 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  317 

studying.  Yet  I  was  in  a  good  club  at  the 
University,  and,  naturally,  always  travelled 
second-class.  And  when  I  became  a  minister 
I  went  on  doing  this  for  the  first  few  months. 
I  thought  I  owed  it  to  my  office.  One  day, 
however,  I  was  in  The  Hague,  where  I  had 
an  interview  with  the  court  chaplain,  Van 
Koetsveld.  He  received  me  most  kindly,  and 
his  manners  were  very  humble.  That  touched 
me,  for  I  was  in  rather  a  socialistic  mood 
that  day.  I  had  looked  about  me  in  The 
Hague,  and  compared  my  miserable  poverty 
with  the  riches  there,  and  had  gone  on 
thinking  in  the  same  strain.  "Vanity  of  vanities, 
and  all  affectation!"  Such  were  my  jealous 
thoughts  about  life  in  The  Hague.  And  the 
court  chaplain's  simplicity  had  not  been  able 
to  take  away  that  impression.  In  the  afternoon 
I  had  to  leave  again,  and  who  should  come  up 
to  the  station  at  the  same  time  as  I  did?  Our 
court  chaplain!  The  royal  carriage  with  fine 
horses  drove  up,  the  footman  jumped  from 
the  box,  the  grand  man  got  out,  the  footman 
coming  behind  him  with  his  box.  And  in  this 
manner  he  walked  on  to  the  platform,  wrapped 
up  warmly  in  his  fur  coat.  'Another  instance/ 
I  thought;  'they  wear  a  fur  coat  here,  while 
we,  country  ministers,  must  be  satisfied  with 


3i8  EDO 

an  ordinary  winter  overcoat!'  I  was  still  in 
the  same  discontented  mood,  when  he  came 
up  to  me  in  a  most  friendly  manner:  'Ah,'  he 
said,  'this  is  the  second  time  we  meet  to-day; 
that  is  nice !'  And  before  long  we  were  engaged 
in  a  conversation  which  lasted  until  the  bell 
rang,  for  at  that  time  they  sounded  a  bell 
when  a  train  was  about  to  stairt.  4I  must  say 
good-bye  to  you/  I  said  hurriedly,  'for  we 
shall  not  be  travelling  by  the  same  class!'  — 
'Probably  not,'  he  said  gently,  and  he  smiled 
as  he  said  it.  That  smile  irritated  me  more 
than  anything  I  had  seen  or  heard  thait  day; 
and  I  was  not  in  a  sweet  temper  as  I  stepped 
into  my  second-class  carriage,  when,  turning 
round,  I  saw  him  get  into  a  third-class  compart- 
ment! Ever  since  that  day  I  have  altered  my 
opinion  about  many  people  in  The  Hague, 
and  about  the  lives  of  those  who  dress  in  a 
fur  coat  and  are  attended  by  a  royal  footman. 
And  since  then  I  have  not  considered  it  a 
duty  to  travel  second-class." 

"I  have  never  had  a  similar  experience  with 
a  court  chaplain,"  Senserff  said,  "so  I  see  no 
reason  why  I  should  stop  travelling  second- 
class!"  And  he  smiled  cheerfully  at  Walter, 
who  joined  in  the  laugh. 

When   the   train   moved   off,    Senserff   sank 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  319 

back  into  the  cushions  with  the  comfortable 
sensation  of  a  person  who  is  accustomed  to 
cover  all  distances  by  walking  in  his  moorland 
village,  and  to  whom  it  is  a  novelty  to  travel 
at  a  great  speed,  so  that  he  has  no  time 
to  notice  the  things  as  they  fly  past. 

Hie  tried  not  to  look  at  a  man  sitting  opposite 
him,  who  had  annoyed  him  by  cleaning  his 
nails  with  a  penknife,  a  thing  which  always 
irritated  him  beyond  words,  so  that  he  turned 
away  in  disgust,  and  sat  looking  out  of  the 
window.  He  was  so  deep  in  thought  that  he 
was  surprised  when  the  train  stopped  at 
Amersfoort. 

The  man  opposite  him,  who  had  been  leaning 
out  of  the  window,  pulled  in  his  head,  and, 
still  grinning  about  something  he  had  seen 
outside,  turned  to  Senserff  and  said:  "Look 
at  that  man  over  there.  Rather  like  a  missionary 
whom  the  cannibals  have  forgotten  to  polish 
off!" 

And,  delighted  with  his  own  joke,  he  looked 
as  if  he  expected  a  compliment,  which  did 
not  come,  however. 

Senserff  was  prejudiced  against  the  man, 
because  he  had  cleaned  his  nails  in  his 
presence.  Had  that  not  taken  place,  his  answer 
might  have  been  different,  and  a  little  less 


320  EDO 

quarrelsome.  "There  is  no  reason,  sir,  to  judge 
missionaries  in  the  way  you  do!"  he  said. 

The  man,  who  had  expected  applause  for 
his  witticism,  felt  rather  small  after  this 
remark,  and  to  revenge  himself  he  retorted: 
"I  suppose  you  are  the  brother  of  a  missionary, 
that  you  take  their  part  in  that  way  ?" 

Good  heavens!  that  saying  was  calculated 
to  bring  Senserff  into  the  right  mood  for 
a  debate.  On  such  an  occasion  he  could  feel 
absolutely  convinced  at  the  outset  that  he 
would  come  out  victorious. 

"Certainly  I  take  the  part  of  the  missiona- 
ries! No  one  should  make  jokes  about  such 
men,  especially  those  who  do  not  know  them 
personally.  I  suppose  you  have  never  seen  one  ?" 

"Yes,  I  have,  in  the  'Fliegende  Blatter!' 
That  cannibal  has  just  devoured  one.  Look!" 
And  with  a  malicious  laugh  he  handed  the 
illustrated  paper  wfiich  he  had  been  reading 
to  Senserff. 

"Juist  as  I  thought,"  Senserff  said,  "you  have 
never  yet  seen,  far  less  spoken  to,  one  of 
those  men.  I  thought  you  must  have  got  all 
your  knowledge  on  the  subject  out  of  very 
second-rate  papers!" 

"You  are  wrong  there,  though!  I  know  a 
good  deal  about  missionaries;  and  I  have  my 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  321 

information  from  a  very  good  source,  from 
an  eye-witness.  I  have  a  brother  in  the  East, 
who  has  just  been  over,  and  many  an  evening 
he  has  made  us  laugh  heartily  with  his  stories 
very  frequently  about  missionaries.  Loafers 
they  are,  and  whenever  they  happen  to  work 
at  all  it  is  only  to  put  up  the  natives  against 
the  Dutch." 

"Loafers?"  Senserff  made  a  great  effort 
not  to  shout  too  loudly.  "Loafers?" 

"Certainly!  They  sit  at  the  club  all  day 
long,  and  I  assure  you  that  they  know  how 
to  drink." 

"Did  your  brother  tell  you  all  that  nonsense? 
Are  you  aware  of  the  fact  that  the  missionaries 
are  generally  stationed  in  some  out-of-the-way 
spot,  far  from  civilisation,  where  they  are  the 
only  white  people?  Where  does  the  club  come 
In,  in  that  case?  I  know  of  many  planters  and 
civil  servants  whose  greatest  grievance  against 
missionaries  is  that  they  will  never  sit  and 
drink  a  whisky  and  soda  with  them,  and  in 
that  way  help  to  drive  away  the  monotony 
of  their  lives!" 

A  sudden  thought  came  into  Senserff 's  head, 
and  he  hoped  his  surmise  might  be  correct, 
so  he  made  up  his  mind  to  find  out. 

"Before  we  say  any  more,  allow  me  to 

11 


322  EDO 

introduce  myself.  I  am  a  minister;  my  name  is 
Senserff,  and  my  parish  is  a  very  small  one 
in  Overijsel. . , ." 

The  other  man  mentioned  his  name  too, 
but  it  was  evident  that  he  would  have  pre- 
ferred not  to.  It  also  came  out  that  he  was 
a  commercial  traveller  for  a  distillery. 

"Just  as  I  thought,"  Senserff  said  with  a 
laugh,  glad  that  he  had  guessed  right.  "Now 
I  cannot  understand  why  you,  who  on  account 
of  your  business  ought  to  rejoice  the  more 
people  drink,  blame  the  missionaries  for 
knowing  how  to  drink.  From  your  point  of  view 
they  are  noble  men,  and  you  should  call  them 
good  fellows.  No,  my  good  sir,  that  does  not 
square  with  what  you  said  before.  And  I  see 
through  it  all  perfectly  well.  Shall  I  tell  you  what 
it  is  that  you  do  not  like  about  these  men? 
It  is  this:  they  are  generally  total  abstainers, 
and  they  fight  hand  and  tooth  against  the 
importation  of  your  strong  drink!  And  instead 
of  saying,  sir,  that  you  do  not  like  them  because 
they  make  things  difficult  for  you,  you  say 
that  you  do  not  care  for  them  because  they 
themselves  drink.  The  devil  sometimes  uses 
the  same  weapon  when  he  warns  the  people 
against  their  opponents  by  saying:  'Look  out 
for  those  people,  for  the  devil  is  in  them." 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  323 

Senserff  was  thinking  of  Edo,  and  had  he 
been  an  Eastloorn  man  himself,  he  could  not 
have  defended  him  more  warmly. 

"Loafers?"  he  repeated,  as  the  other  did 
not  answer. 

With  a  disdainful  smile  the  man  had  taken 
a  small  mirror  and  brush  out  o'f  his  waistcoat 
pocket  and  started  brushing  up  his  moustache, 
while  he  twisted  and  turned  his  head,  studying 
his  face  in  the  glass.  He  did  not  forget  to 
arrange  the  lock  of  hair  on  his  forehead  either. 
Senserff,  who  had  not  forgotten  the  incident 
of  the  nail  cleaning,  became  more  and  more 
annoyed.  "Vain  men,"  he  thought,  "are  worse 
than  vain  women,  for  vain  women  have  the 
sense  to  hide  their  vanity."  And  aloud  he 
said:  "Your  hair  is  quite  all  right  now,  sir. 
Just  listen  to  this: 

"I  know  a  missionary  who  went  out  six 
years  ago.  He  was  sent  to  an  island  where  there 
are  only  two  or  three  white  men  —  a  post- 
master, an  official,  and  one  other.  When  he 
had  been  there  a  year,  he  ordered  a  lot  of 
cotton  to  make  clothes  for  the  natives,  who 
went  about  without  any.  The  official  objected 
to  this  and  a  difference  of  opinion  ensued.  I 
do  not  know  whose  part  you  would  have  chosen 
In  this  quarrel,  but  can  you  realise  how  much 


324  EDO 

more  civilised  and  moral  a  population  becomes 
when  it  is  taught  to  feel  a  sense  of  shame?" 

"I  dare  say  he  earned  a  good  deal  on  that 
ship's  cargo  of  cotton!  It  must  be  a  profitable 
business  to  teach  the  natives  a  sense  of  shame!" 
the  wine  agent  answered  scornfully. 

"You  can  be  sure  of  that !"  Senserff  said,  and 
there  was  unmistakable  sarcasm  in  his  tone 
and  face:  "he  earned  just  as  much  on  that 
as  on  that  other  cargo  which  he  ordered  from 
Holland  too;  all  sorts  of  tools  for  field  labour 
and  carpentry,  so  that  each  labourer  has  his 
own  spade  now,  and  the  trees  have  been  sawn 
into  boards,  and  the  houses  in  the  village 
are  stronger  and  nicer  than  any  other  houses 
for  miles  around.  Do  you  know  what  it  means 
to  accustom  a  population  to  have  their  own 
dwellings,  and  to  teach  them  to  work,  to  raise 
the  standard  of  agriculture,  and  to  make  of 
it  a  regular  source  of  income?  Do  you  know 
that  the  work  of  a  missionary  is  part  of  the 
history  of  civilisation?" 

Senserff  was  thinking  of  Edo  all  the  time, 
and  it  was  his  work  he  was  describing. 

"I  cannot  see  why  it  is  necessary  to  civilise 
those  black  people,"  the  other  man  objected; 
"let  them  remain  as  they  are!" 

"I  know  quite  well,  sir,  why  you  have  no 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  325 

desire  to  further  the  civilasation  of  your  neigh- 
bours. Certainly  you  would  like  to  leave  them 
as  they  are;  you  have  no  desire  to  put  out 
your  hand  to  help  any  one.  If  you  did  anything 
to  those  people,  it  would  be  the  same  thing 
you  do  to  your  fellow  creatures  here;  you 
would  offer  them  strong  drink,  and  teach  them 
to  drink  until  you  had  made  good  customers 
of  them,  so  that  you  would  be  well  paid  for 
your  noble  work.  I  suppose  you  feel  very 
well  satisfied  every  evening  when  you  think  of 
the  amount  of  strong  drink  you  have  sold.  It 
is  a  far  nobler  work  to  make  drunkards  than 
to  promote  agriculture  and  industry!" 

Senserff  paused  a  moment,  thinking  the  man 
would  speak  in  self-defence,  but  as  there  was 
no  answer,  he  continued: 

"To  carry  on  the  comparison  between 
that  missionary  and  you,  sir!  That  Edo,  — 
I  mean  that  missionary,  sits  among  those 
black  people  for  four  hours  each  day  to  teach 
them  to  read  and  write.  —  By  the  way,  how 
many  hours  of  your  life  have  you  spent  in 
trying  to  teach  a  stupid  fellow  whom  you  knew 
to  read?  Has  it  ever  even  interested  you  to 
know  that  there  are  people  who  cannot  read 
or  write?  I  suppose  not.  —  That  missionary 
tells  an  immoral  person  that  he  must  stop 


326  EDO 

his  wicked  manner  of  living  and  that  he  must 
be  good  and  pure.  Have  you  ever  tried  to 
make  a  good  man  of  a  widked  man  ?  I  dare  say 
it  has  never  occurred  to  you  that  you  might 
try  it.  Has  it  now?  —  That  missionary  seeks 
the  thieves  in  their  hiding  places,  and  he 
hopes  to  make  honest  men  of  them,  and  he 
believes  that  he  can  do  it.  You  have  never 
had  any  other  thoughts  about  a  thief  than 
that  he  should  be  in  prison;  I  am  convinced 
your  thoughts  never  went  beyond  a  prison  in 
connection  with  a  thief.  That  missionary  breaks 
them  off  the  habit  of  swearing  which  the  official 
teaches  them.  Have  you  ever  told  any  one  to 
stop  swearing?"  And  it  cannot  be  denied  that 
Senserff's  laugh,  when  he  said  this,  was  a  little 
malicious,  for  the  wine  agent  had  used  many 
rough  swear-words  during  the  course  of  conver- 
sation, and  Senserff  was  glad  of  the  opportunity 
to  let  him  know  what  he  thought  of  swearing. 

"Every  one  swears,"  the  man  said,  as  if 
he  were  speaking  in  self-defence. 

"Not  at  all,  sir,  every  one  does  not  swear. 
It  is  only  a  form  of  affectation  to  show  that 
one  is  not  pious;  only  affected  people  swear. 
You  yourself  know  quite  well  that  you  only 
do  it  to  show  the  world  how  clever  you  are." 

Senserff  was  not  at  all  surprised  at  himself 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  327 

for  daring  to  speak  in  this  way.  He  would  have 
laughed  heartily  if  any  one  had  said  to  him: 
"But  how  did  you  dare  to  say  all  that?"  and 
he  would  have  answered :  "Oh,  I  could  not  help 
it.  He  was  so  absolutely  in  my  power,  and 
I  have  always  been  able  to  tackle  novices  1" 

He  had  not  nearly  finished  talking,  although 
the  other  man  was  silent. 

"Do  you  know  what  else  a  missionairy  does, 
sir?  First  I  thought  I  would  not  tell  you, 
because  I  wondered  whether  you  would  under- 
stand. But  I  will  tell  you,  and  I  think  you 

will  understand.  A  missionary "  Senserff 

had  made  up  his  mind  to  go  straight  to  the 
point  and  not  to  mince  matters  —  "a  missi- 
onary comes  straight  to  a  man  and  says: 
'You  must  be  converted.  You  are  not  happy, 
and  you  cannot  be  happy  on  account  of  your 
sins.  You  know  quite  well  what  your  sins  are, 
but  you  must  not  be  unhappy;  God  loves 
you  too  much  for  that.'  And  to  make  God's 
love  quite  clear,  he  will  start  telling  him  the 
story  of  the  Cross,  which  you  undoubtedly 
heard  in  your  youth  when  you  went  to  church 
as  a  boy.  Perhaps  your  mother  told  you  about 
it;  for  your  mother  did  not  chaff  about  these 
things,  did  she?" 

The   wine   agent   was  quite   at  sea  by  this 


328  EDO 

time;  he  was  not  quite  sure  whether  the 
minister  was  telling  him  how  the  missionary 
converted  the  natives,  or  whether  he  was 
preaching  at  him.  He  almost  thought  it  was 
the  latter,  and  It  did  not  please  him,  for  no 
one  had  ever  tried  that  on  with  him  before. 
So  to  cover  his  nervousness,  he  took  his 
toothpick  out  of  his  pocket  and  began  to 
clean  his  teeth,  smacking  his  lips  in  an 
offensive  manner. 

This  did  not  irritate  Senserff  as  it  would 
have  done  at  another  time.  He  had  become 
the  pastor  who  has  discovered  a  wandering 
sheep,  and  who,  forgetting  everything  else,  is 
filled  with  one  desire.  That  picking  of  his 
teeth,  that  smacking  with  his  lips,  he  knew 
was  only  a  mannerism  put  on  in  order  to 
sooth  his  conscience.  It  did  not  annoy 
Senserff  at  all:  for  all  he  cared  he  might 
start  cleaning  his  nails  too,  or  take  out  his 
mirror  and  brush.  At  that  moment  Senserff  was 
filled  with  the  true  desire  to  convert. 

And  as  he  was  still  trying  to  convince  the 
wine  agent  of  what  the  love  of  God  might 
mean  for  him,  the  train  stopped  again,  at 
Utrecht  this  time. 

Without  greeting,  the  man  collected  his 
things  and  got  out  of  the  carriage.  A  moment 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  329 

later  Senserff  saw  him  standing  in  the  refresh- 
ment room,  with  a  glass  of  gin  and  bitters  in  his 
hand. 

The  minister  felt  very  unhappy  as  he  walked 
through  the  streets  of  his  old  University  town. 
He  felt  again  as  he  had  done  so  often,  after 
a  conversation  with  unregenerate  people,  that 
he  was  a  sad  conqueror;  a  conqueror  who 
has  not  succeeded  in  making  the  love  of  God 
shine  in  his  words,  so  that  it  might  seem 
acceptable  to  the  other  person.  "Another 
failure,"  he  muttered  to  himself;  "shajl  I  never 
learn  to  speak  more  gently  with  the  erring 
sheep?  I  do  not  love  sinners,  I  do  not  love 
them  enough,  shall  never  be  a  good  minister, 
and  I  have  been  one  for  eight  years  now!" 
And  he  almost  wept  over  his  own  shortcomings. 


Never  before  had  Walter  had  a  more 
difficult  task  to  fulfil. 

One  evening  he  received  a  letter  from  the 
Missionary  Society  to  which  Edo  belonged. 
And  it  was  very  sad  news  which  he  read.  The 
missionary  had  not  been  able  to  stand  the 
climate,  and  had  finally  succumbed  to  a 
terrible  fever.  A  letter  written  by  Edo's  wife 
was  enclosed,  so  that  Walter  could  read  all 
particulars.  After  having  read  it,  Walter  was 


33o  EDO 

requested  to  be  the  bearer  of  the  sad  tidings 
to  the  missionary's  old  parents.  The  Society 
thanked  him  beforehand  for  undertaking  this 
very  painful  duty. 

Walter  was  startled.  The  news  had  come 
to  him  quite  unexpectedly,  and  he  was  glad 
that  the  Missionary  Society  had  not  allowed 
the  parents  to  hear  it  In  the  same  way. 

He  was  passionately  moved  as  he  sat  down 
to  read  the  wife's  description  of  her  husband's 
death 

He  sat  at  his  writing  desk  until  the  small 
hours  of  the  morning  before  he  awoke  from  his 
dreams,  which  had  carried  him  far  away  to 
that  distant  country.  At  last  he  got  up  and 
said  aloud:  "Yes,  I  understand  they  want  me 
to  break  the  terrible  news  to  the  old  couple, 
but  oh,  I  wish  they  had  chosen  some  one 
else!  For  there  is  no  one  less  capable  of  doing 
it  than  I  am.  However,  it  is  my  duty,  and  I 
shall  do  it!" 

And  early  the  next  morning  he  started,  and 
walked  with  lagging  footsteps  in  the  direction 
of  Ubbo's  house. 

"It  is  curious,"  he  thought,  "how  a  man's 
very  walk  is  affected  by  his  mental  condition." 
He  had  to  cross  the  meadows  before  he  came 
to  the  dyke.  A  small  path  through  the  grass, 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  331 

over  a  little  bridge  across  a  ditch,  through  a 
gate  which  he  pulled  shut  behind  him  —  such 
was  his  walk  across  the  meadows. 

A  wagtail  flew  on  in  front  of  him,  and 
settled  down  on  the  path.  When  he  came  near 
it  flew  away  and  came  down  a  little  farther  on. 
And  it  did  the  same  thing  several  times.  Walter 
knew  the  habits  of  these  birds  quite  well. 
"I  wonder  how  long  it  will  kfeep  me  company," 
he  thought.  Only  when  he  had  climbed  to 
the  top  of  the  dyke,  —  and  that  was  almost 
half  an  hour  later,  —  did  the  little  bird  leave 
him;  once  more  it  fluttered  up  at  his  feet  and 
flew  away  towards  the  meadows.  "I  must  look 
the  subject  up  at  home,"  Walter  thought;  "I 
must  find  out  why  they  do  that.  It  interests  me." 
He  was  so  full  of  this  incident  that  he 
had  almost  forgotten  his  painful  task  of  that 
morning.  When  he  reached  the  top  of  the 
dyke  he  thought  of  it  with  a  sudden  sense  of 
depression.  But  it  was  only  for  a  moment,  for 
there  in  front  of  Him  lay  the  Vecht. 

He  caught  sight  of  the  glistening  stream 
of  water.  The  sunshine,  coming  towards  him 
from  the  other  side,  made  a  wide  streak  of 
light  on  the  river.  This  wide  streak  of  light 
seemed  to  follow  him  as  he  climbed  down 
the  dyke.  Several  peat-boats  went  by.  The 


332  EDO 

gentle  wind  did  not  catch  the  sails  much,  but 
they  went  down  stream  and  the  skipper  and 
his  man  sat  quite  comfortably  at  the  helm. 
The  minister  knew  all  these  people,  and  every 
time  a  boat  passed  a  cheerful  greeting  was 
exchanged  across  the  water. 

Later  on  it  was  again  quiet  around  him: 
there  was  no  one  to  be  seen. 

At  a  bend  of  the  river,  where  a  mass  of 
bulrushes  grew,  the  stream  became  wider.  The 
stalks  were  tall  and  strong.  That  was  quite 
natural,  Walter  thought,  for  the  roots  grew  in 
good  river  soil;  the  stalks  were  as  thick  as 
his  finger.  He  heard  a  reed  warbler  whistle, 
and  'Hallo'  he  said,  "there  must  be  a  nest 
here  too!" 

He  knew  that  these  nests  were  among  the 
most  marvellous  ones  to  be  found;  and  he 
hunted  among  the  rushes,  and  stood  still  every 
now  and  then,  as  if  he  were  in  no  hurry  at 
all  and  had  no  difficult  task  waiting  for  him. 
There,  there,  on  the  spot  from  where  the 
reed  warbler  had  tried  to  lure  him  by  his 
whistling,  there  he  saw  a  nest!  Three  or  four 
stalks  were  bent  towards  each  other  and  tied 
together  crossways.  It  seemed  impossible  to 
believe  that  a  small  bird  could  have  accom- 
plished this  almost  gigantic  task.  And  there 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  333 

where  the  stalks  were  fastened  together  it 
had  built  its  little  nest,  strong  and  warm,  and 
almost  invisible  to  those  who  did  not  really 
look  for  it. 

"I  want  that,"  Walter  thought,  and  he 
climbed  to  the  water.  But  before  he  could 
get  hold  of  the  nest  he  had  to  walk  through 
the  mrud,  so  that  his  feet  sank  deep  into  it. 
But  he  did  not  mind  that.  His  boots  were 
not  fit  to  be  seen  when  he  climbed  up  again, 
carrying  the  four  stalks  which  he  had  cut 
off  with  the  little  nest  hanging  in  them. 

"A  splendM  decoration  for  my  study,"  he 
thought. 

Then  with  much  care  he  chose  a  place  on 
the  bank  where  he  could  hide  his  find, 
intending  to  tajce  it  with  him  on  his  way,  home. 
He  tried  to  clean  his  boots  on  the  long  grass, 
but  it  was  of  little  avail;  they  remained  dirty, 
He  went  his  way  cheerfully.  And  only  then 
it  occurred  to  him  that  it  might  be  cruel  to 
rob  a  bird  of  its  nest.  "Cruel!  Nonsense,! 
a  good  subject  for  an  old  maid's  tea-party!" 
he  scoffed;  but  a  moment  later,  he  thought: 
"How  is  it  that  remorse  never  comes  in  time? 
And  what  is  the  good  of  it  then?"  He  had 
gone  about  a  hundred  yards  further  when  he 
decided  to  find  out  scientifically  whether 


334 

remorse  was  in  reality  nothing  but  an  acquired 
characteristic. 

He  did  not  think  much  during  his  walk,  of 
how  he  was  going  to  fulfil  his  mournful  duty 
and  if  it  occurred  to  him  at  all  it  was  with 
a  deep  sense  of  depression.  "I  am  not  the 
sort  of  man  to  undertake  the  thing  which 
I  have  been  asked  to  do,"  he  would  say  to 
himself  then. 

But  these  moments  were  not  long.  For  later 
on,  when  he  came  to  a  still  more  lovely  part  of 
the  Vecht,  his  eye  was  caught  by  sights  which 
were  not  to  be  seen  every  day. 

Strange  water-birds  appeared  suddenly  above 
the  surface  of  the  water,  as  if  they  spent  all 
their  time  underneath.  But  a  moment  later 
they  were  gone,  for  they  had  seen  him  and 
had  disappeared  beneath  the  water  with  innate 
timidity,  as  if  their  home  were  really  there. 
Soon  however  they  reappeared  a  little  further 
on.  Walter  had  very  little  time  to  find  out 
what  sort  of  birds  they  really  were,  they  were  so 
quick.  But  he  recognised  them;  they  were 
the  water-birds  which  live  on  eels.  They  could 
swim  faster  than  the  fastest  fish;  and  were 
unequalled  for  gluttony.  He  knew  that  the 
eel  fishers  would  catch  ten  times  as  many 
eels  each  yeajr  if  it  were  not  for  these  birds! 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  335 

Here  where  the  Vecht  was  wide,  the  timid 
creatures  dared  to  swim  about.  Walter  wondered 
whether  he  could  throw  a  stone  across  the 
wide  river.  He  thought  he  would  try.  He 
looked  about  on  the  dyke  and  found  a  suitable 
one.  Then  he  bent  his  body  far  back  and/  with 
a  strong  swing  of  his  long  arm  he  flung  the 
stone,  and  it  came  down,  not  right  across 
the  river,  but  among  the  bulrushes  on  the  other 
side.  About  twenty  ducks  flew  up  from  where 
the  stone  had  come  down.  They  flapped  their 
wings  against  the  rushes,  trying  hard  to  get 
out  from  among  them;  then  they  suddenly 
flew  straight  up  into  the  air,  higher  and 
higher,  until  at  last  he  lost  sight  of  them. 

"It's  a  fine  life,  Ubbo's!"  Walter  thought; 
"out  on  the  water  all  day  long,  with  the  eel- 
baskets  and  with  the  nets,  and  with  a  rifle 
beside  him  in  the  boat!" 

The  thought  of  Ubbo,  however,  had  remin- 
ded him  of  his  task.  And  he  felt  deeply 
humiliated  that  the  many  duties  of  his  noble 
calling  were  so  easily  pushed  aside  by  what 
he  called  his  primitive  instincts,  his  love  of 
birds,  plants,  and  clouds.  And  he  walked  on, 
looking  very  sad. 

It  was  high  time,  too,  for  him  to  collect 
his  thoughts,  for  there,  on  the  other  side 


336  EDO 

of  the  water,  he  saw  the  house  of  Ubbo, 
the  man  to  whom  he  was  going  to  break  that 
awful  news  of  which  he  had  hardly  thought 
during  his  long  walk. 

"Woe  is  me!"  he  muttered;  "happy  the 
ministers  who  care  nothing  about  nature,  who 
sit  at  the  fireside  with  pale  faces,  talking 
to  their  elders,  a  long  pipe  in  their 
mouth;  and  who  have  white  hands,  because 
they  never  touch  anything  but  their  thickly 
buttered  bread,  and  the  pen  with  which  they 
write  their  sermons!  Oh,  Winfried,  Winfried, 
now  I  can  imagine  what  a  difficult  task  you 
must  have  had,  when  you  taught  those  Old- 
Germans  that  life  in  a  cloister  was  better 
than  life  in  the  forests,  and  it  was  nobler  to 
hold  a  cross  or  a  pen  than  to  carry,  a  bow  and 
arrows!  I  think  I  sihould  have  been  a  very 
difficult  one  to  convert!" 

This  mental  conflict  was  almost  more  than 
he  could  bear,  and,  putting  his  hand  to  his 
mouth,  he  shouted  across  the  water:  "Ahoy f" 
The  Eastloorn  people  always  gave  this  sign 
when  they  wished  Uhbo  to  cross  over  in  his 
boat  and  fetch  them. 

Tall  old  elm  trees  towered  above  Ubbo's 
low  house.  And  Ubbo's  figure  looked  very 
small  under  those  gigantic  trees  as  he  shut 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  337 

his  door  and  walked  quietly  to  the  boat.  His 
legs  did  not  seem  very  strong,  >for  his  body 
swayed  from  right  to  left  as  he  walked,  as  is 
the  case  with  old  mien.  But,  when  he  was  seated 
in  the  boat,  his  armis  proved  to  be  strong 
enough  to  pull  the  oars ;  for  the  stream,  though 
very  powerful,  did  not  carry  the  boat  along, 
and  it  landed  exactly  where  Walter  was 
standing.  He  jumped  in,  so  that  the  old  man 
had  only  to  turn  round  without  leaving  his 
seat 

"Get  up,  nov/,  Ubbo;  I  want  to  sit  there," 
Walter  said;  "give  me  the  oars  I"  It  was 
evident  that  this  was  not  the  first  time  that  the 
minister  had  made  this  request,  for  Ubbo  made 
no  objections,  and  laughingly  handed  over 
the  oars  as  he  seated  himself  at  the  stern. 
Walter  would  go  back  in  a  shorter  time  than 
Ubbo  had  taken  to  come. 

As  Walter  stepped  out  of  the  boat,  Ubbo 
noticed  his  dirty  boots.  "Have  you  been 
walking  through  the  mud,  sir?"  he  enquired. 
"Surely  the  dyke  was  not  wet.  How  did  that 
happen?"  And,  taking  a  bunch  of  straw,  he 
wanted  to  clean  the  boots. 

But  Walter  wo.uld  not  hear  of  it.  "It  does 
not  matter,"  he  said  ajoud,  but  under  his 
breath  he  muttered:  "If  the  oxen  and  sheep 


338  EDO 

of  Amalek  do  not  proclaim  a  man's  sins  aloud, 
his  boots  will  do  it  I" 

Old  Ubbo's  wife  gave  him  a  warm  welcome 
at  the  door,  but  it  seemed  to  Walter  that 
she  also  looked  askance  at  his  boots,  and 
in  his  heart  of  hearts  he  cursed  the  bulrushes, 
and  the  reed-warblers  as  well.  Never,  he 
thought,  had  he  been  in  a  more  inappropriate 
frame  of  mind  for  a  duty  which  had  been 
laid  upon  him. 

But  on  entering  the  house  he  felt  his  mood 
suddenly  change. 

Ministers  must  be  able  to  change  their  mood 
readily;  for  do  they  not  go  from  a  funeral  to 
a  wedding,  and  from  a  wedding  to  a  funeral, 
and  are  they  not  the  most  important  person 
on  both  occasions?  WKile  other  people  have 
time  to  let  their  moods  change  gradually, 
gradually,  the  minister  must  often  do  it 
suddenly,  without  any  transition  I  That  is  a 
mental  strain  which  undermines  the  health  of 
many  ministers. 

The  Walter  who  stood  in  the  hut  was  a 
different  Walter  to  the  one  outside,  and 
yet  both  were  honest  and  straightforward 
people 

When  he  sat  down  at  the  table,  facing  the 
old  couple,  he  was  ready,  ready,  for  his  task. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  339 

How  really  to  perform  it  he  could  not  tell; 
God  would  help  him. 

"Have  you  heard  from  Edo  lately?'*  Walter 
enquired. 

"That  is  always  your  first  question  when 
you  sit  down,"  Ubbo  said  kindly.  "I  can  see 
you  axe  fond  of  him,  although  you  have  never 
known  him." 

"Well,  it  is  quite  natural,  after  hearing  from 
every  one  what  a  man  he  is!  He  does  wonders 
in  that  country  Not  many  missionaries  are 
blessed  as  he  is.  Is  it  not  the  fifth  school 
that  he  is  building  now?" 

"Yes,  the  fifth  one,"  the  old  mother  said,  "but 
this  one  is  not  quite  ready  yet.  The  people  had 
not  yet  brought  the  straw  for  the  roof." 

The  woman  spoke  as  if  she  were  discussing 
a  thing  which  had  taken  place  in  the  village. 
Her  clear,  steel-blue  eyes  looked  frankly  at 
the  minister,  and  WalteJ?  could  not  help  looking 
into  them.  "There  are  women  who  have  hardly 
anything  on  their  conscience,"  he  reflected; 
"I  should  like  to.  know  the  history  of  her 
youth,  whether  it  tallies  with  those  eyes.  It 
is  quite  possible,  though;  such  women  do 
exist  I"  And  he  showed  his  respect  for  the 
woman  in  his  confidential  manner  to  her  hus- 
band. Aloud  he  said: 


340  EDO 

"The  most  beautiful  side  of  it  all  to  me 
is  not  those  five  schools,  but  the  ten  teachers 
whom  he  has  prepared.  And  then,  how  does 
he  get  the  young  people  to  sit  on  the  benches  ? 
I  dare  say  they  much  prefer  hunting  in  the 
wood  or  fishing  in  the  sea!"  And  Walter 
thought  of  his  walk  and  of  Wjnfried. 

"Edo's  village  is  on  the  sea,"  the  mother 
remarked,  "and  the  people  are  great  fishermen ; 
he  did  not  require  to  teach  them  how  to  make 
nets.  But  still  it  was  a  good  thing  that  he 
could  do  it  himself,  for,  quite  at  the  beginning, 
when  no  one  trusted  him  yet,  it  was  just 
because  they  saw  him  fishing  in  the  sea,  that 
they  approached  him.  Their  boats  came  nearer 
and  nearer  to  his,  until  at  last  they  were  lying 
side  by  side;  and  then  he  made  friends;  the 
ice  was  broken.  Then  they  helped  him  to 
build  his  house;  the  house  is  quite  close  to  the 
sea  too,  but  high  up,  against  the  rocks,  under 
the  tall  trees,  and  if  you  wajit  to  get  to  the 
house,  you  have  to  climb  up  a  steep  and  narrow 
path.  From  a  front  room  there  is  a  fine  view 
across  the  sea,  and  Edo  and  his  wife  often 
stand  there  at  sunset.  It  looks  towards  the 
West,  and  they  think  of  their  old  father  and 
mother,  he  writes.  But  I  believe  they  always 
do  that;  I  am  sure  of  it." 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  341 

Walter  was  lost  in  amazement  at  the  woman's 
capacity  to  picture  that  scene  as  if  she  had  seen 
it,  and  to  talk  about  it  as  if  she  had  lived  with 
them  for  years  in  that  house  by  the  sea. 

"I  believe  you  are  always  thinking  about 
them,"  he  said. 

"So  I  am "  she  answered.  "I  am  always 
•with  them  In  that  house  on  the  rock;  and  I 
stand  there  too,  and  I  look  across  the  sea 
with  Edo  and  his  wife." 

"Are  they  never  here  with  you,  in  your 
house,  or  over  there  at  the  boat?" 

"No,  they  are  never  here;  I  am  always 
with  them,  over  there." 

"What  an  extraordinary  imagination,"  Walter 
thought.  "I  have  found  the  way;  I  know  now 
how  I  must  break  tbe  news  to  the  old  people! 
I  could  not  have  a  better  ally  than  their 
imaginations '" 

And  aloud  he  said:  "But  you  have  not  yet 
told  me  whether  you  have  heard  from  him 
lately." 

"Well,  it  must  be  about  four  weeks  ago,** 
Ubbo  answered,  "and  I  am  sure  you  will 
have  heard,  sir,  what  was  in  that  letter.  I  think 
Dreese  told  the  other  men  on  the  Square, 
as  he  generally  does." 

"Yes,    I   knew  that;   but   I   had  not   heard 


342  EDO 

whether  they  were  well  and  healthy.  Has  his 
wife  not  had  a  third  child,  and  was  she  quite 
.well  again?" 

"Yes,  she  is  better,"  the  old  mother  said, 
"and  the  baby  was  all  right  too;  but  Edo 
himself  had  a  touch  of  fever,  he  wrote." 

"These  fevers  are  nothing  unusual  there, 
I  believe,"  Walter  remarked.  "Edo  has  written 
about  it  before.  I  suppose  he  will  pick  up, 
as  he  did  the  last  time?" 

"I  do  not  know,"  the  old  mother  said,  "it 
fe  lasting  so  long!  And  it  seems  to  come  back 
so  often!  That  is  w*hy  they  went  to  live  on  the 
rock;  the  village  itself  is  much  lower  down. 
If  you  go  down  the  steep  path,  and  round 
by  the  rock  in  the  opposite  direction  to  the 
beach,  you  come  into  the  flat  country,  and 
at  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  distance  you  will 
find  the  village.  But  Edo  did  not  want  tc(  live 
there;  he  thought  he  was  more  likely  to  catch 
the  fever  there  than  up  above  in  the  purer  air. 
And  they  are  quite  right.  And  yet,  it  is,  not  as 
it  should  be;  for  he  always  carries  the  little 
box  with  him ;  and  as  long  as  he  has  to  do  that, 
I  shall  not  be  at  rest." 

"What    little   box?"   Walter    asked. 

"With  the  pills,  the  fever  pills.  He  is  his 
own  doctor,  for  there  is  none  there,  of  course. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  343 

But  that  is  not  necessary;  he  is  as  clever  as 
a  doctor  himself,  for  he  learned  medicine 
among  all  the  other  things.  And  when  he  helps 
the  masters  at  the  school  with  the  teaching  he 
always  takes  four  of  those  pills  during  the 
lesson.  And  before  he  mounts  the  pulpit  in 
church  he  always  takes  four  pills  too.  And  also 
when  he  goes  on  horseback  to  those  other 
villages  where  he  preaches.  He  must  often 
ride  for  about  two  hours  before  he  gets  there, 
and  he  takes  them  on  the  road.  And  his  wife 
wrote  the  other  day  that  he  takes  them  every 
now  and  then  during  the  day-time.  That  cannot 
be  a  good  sign,  SET!" 

"No,"  Walter  said  decidedly,  "he  is  ill  then, 
really,  and  not  a  healthy  man."  He  felt  that 
he  was  steering  towards  the  awful  thing  which 
he  was  about  to  do. 

"Ubbo  will  not  believe  it  when  I  say  it," 
she  said;  "I  tell  him  so  often  our  boy  is  ill, 
he  is  not  well!  But  Ubbo  always  says: 
'Come,  cpfne,  he  will  be  all  tight  soon1 1* 
Do  you  hear  now,  Ubbo,  what  the  minister 
says  ?" 

But  the  minister  answered  quickly,  instead 
of  Ubbo,  for  he  felt  that  he  must  strike  the 
iron  while  it  was  hot.  "I  had  a  letter  from  the 
Missionary  Society  the  other  day,  telling  me  he 


344  EDO 

was  down  with  fever  again.  It  Is  only  a  short 
time  ago.  But  the  letter  was  full  of  praises 
again.  Your  son  is  a  man!" 

"What  then?"  the  mother  enquired,  for 
Walter's  exclamation  made  her  think  that  there 
was  more. 

"Just  fancy,"  Walter  continued :  "one  day 
the  fever  came  up  again,  but  worse  than  ever 
before.  Anna  got  him  to  go  to  bed,  much 
against  his  wish.  But  she  persuaded  him  to 
do  ft,  for  she  is  very  decided.  She  went  to 
the  front  of  thje  house,  as  he  was  just  going 
to  mount  his  horse;  she...." 

"She  took  the  reins  out  of  his  hand,"  the 
old  mother  interrupted,  and  her  eyes  were 
sparkling;  "she  gave  them  to  the  black 
boy  and  said:  'Take  the  horse  to  the 
stable!'  And  she  put  her  arms  round  her 
husband's  neck  and  said;  'You  must  come 
in,  Edo;  you  cannot  go  out  to-day;  come, 
lean  on  me,  for  you  can  scarcely  stand 
on  your  legs  1*  And  she  led  him  inside, 
and  she  undressed  him,  and  let  him  sit 
on  the  side  of  his  bed,  and  then  she  put 
her  arm  round  him,  so  that  he  might  not 
fall  back  suddenly  against  the  pillows.  And  then 
she  sat  down  beside  his  bed  and  waited,  hoping 
that  the  fever  would  pass  off.  I  know  all 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  345 

about  it,  sir,  I  know  what  she  did.  A  woman 
can  easily  guess  that  I" 

"Exactly,"  Walter  said;  "and  just  fancy; 
that  fever  did  not  pass  off  during  that  whole 
day,  and  for  three  days  after  that.  At  last  Edo 
began  to  wander;  he  seemed  to  be  thinking 
of  all  sorts  of  things;  he  talked  of  his  parish 
and  of  his  teachers,  and  of  the  Dutch  official 
who  is  there;  he  talked  about  a  new  road 
which  he  was  wanting  to  make  across  the  moun- 
tains to  the  heathen  who  live  in  an  even  more 
remote  part  of  the  island,  and  whom  he  wanted 
to  bring  into  closer  contact  with  his  village ;  he 
talked  about  the  new  missionary,  who,  he 
hoped,  might  be  sent  out  by  the  Society,  for 
he  had  great  plans;  he  talked  about  the  coffee 
plantations  which  he  wanted  the  natives  to 
make,  and  of  the  rice-mills  which  he  had 
ordered  from  Holland,  and  Which  were  so  long 
in  corning.  He  talked  about  all  the  things  of 
which  he  had  been  thinking,  and  occasionally 
he  started  preaching,  as  if  he  were  in  the  pulpit 
or  standing  on  the  beach  among  his  fishermen 
with  his  Bible  in  his  hand.  Oh,  that  attack 
of  fever  was  very  bad!" 

"And  his  wife  just  sat  beside  him,"  the 
old  woman  said,  with  a  wonderful  light  in 
her  eyes,  "and  she  held  him  up,  and  she 


346  EDO 

stopped  him  if  he  wanted  to  get  up;  and  she 
just  said:  'Edo,  be  quiet,  Edo,  my  boy!'  And 
she  took  his  head  in  her  arms,  if  he  insisted  on 
sitting  up,  and  she  let  him  rest  his  head  against 
her  shoulder ;  and  she  let  him  drink  cold  water, 
which  the  black  boy  had  to  fetch  from  behind 
the  house,  where  the  little  waterfall  is.  And 
she  did  not  sleep,  and  she  did  not  eat  for  four 
days;  she  could  manage  it  all  herself,  she 
said,  and  did  not  want  help  from  any  of  the 
others.  Am  I  right?" 

"Yes,  but  on  the  sixth  day  her  strength 
gave  way,"  —  Walter  cut  short  her  imagina- 
tion, —  "and  help  was  required.  And  thb  is  a 
fine  part;  on  the  sixth  day  the  black  elder  was 
standing  at  the  door  by  the  verandah,  and 
he  said:  'I  have  waited  here  since  the  day 
before  yesterday,  and  surely  you  will  not  refuse 
my  help  now.'  And  that  black  man  came  in 
and  'implored  her  to  go  to  bed;  he  himself 
would  watch  by  the  sick-bed.  And  Anna  could 
not  refuse;  for  she  was  exhausted.  And  then 
they  watched  in  turns,  Anna  and  the  black 
man." 

"And  that  of  course,  went  on  until  they 
were  both  exhausted;  for  Edo  got  worse  and 
worse,  did  he  not?" 

"Yes,  much  worse,"  the  minister  said,  "for 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  347 

he  was  wild;  only  sometimes  though,  for  as 
a  rule  he  was  too  weak  even  to  sit  up.  And  at 
moments  they  noticed  that  there  was  something 
troubling  him,  and  in  his  fever  he  could  not 
say  it.  At  last  the  two  could  make  out  that 
he  imagined  that  his  parishioners  had  run 
away  and  had  become  heathen  again.  And, 
when  that  thought  came  over  him,  he  was  wild, 
so  that  they  could  scarcdy  keep  him  in  bed; 
for  then  he  wfcmld  try  to  get  up.  It  was  awful, 
that  fighting  between  the  black  elder  and  Edo." 

"They  were  not  able  to  keep  him  in  bed 
between  the  two  of  them,  I  know  that  before- 
hand. For  no  one  here  was  ever  as  strong 
as  Edo.  Poor  boy,  I  am  sure  he  got  out  of 
bed;  and  I  know  they  could  not  prevent  him 
from  climbing  down  the  steep  path." 

"No,  it  did  not  happen  in  that  way,"  — 
here  Walter  had  to  correct  her  again,  from 
what  he  knew  historically  from  the  letter,  — 
"it  was  in  this  way.  It  was  during  the  twentieth 
night,  and  they  were  both  staying  up,  for  it 
seemed  to  them  that  he  would  not  live  until 
the  morning.  And,  exhausted  as  they  were, 
they  both  fell  asleepl.  Then  he  got  up  in  his 
fever*  went  out  of  the  house,  down  the  steep 
path,  and  walked  to  the  village  —  he  who 
otherwise  had  not  the  strength  to  walk  ten 


348  EDO 

steps.  And  in  his  raving  he  knocked  at  the 
doors  and  shouted  at  each  house:  'Open  the 
door!  I  want  to  know  if  you  are  all  still  here! 
Open  the  door!  Who  has  run  away?  And  who 
have  returned  to  their  idols?'  And  he  stood 
on  the  square  of  the  village  shouting:  'Come 
here,  Philip  and  Luke/  —  those  are  two  elders, 
as  you  know,  —  'come  here,  I  wish  to  know 
whether  you  have  herded  my  flock  while  I 
was  awayf  Bring  all  my  sheep  here,  I  want  to 
count  them!  Not  one  must  be  wanting!'  And 
as  he  was  calling  and  preaching  along  the 
road  and  on  the  square*  in  the  dark  night, 
the  people  came  running  out  of  their  houses. 
'Who  is  there?'  they  shouted.  But  very  soon 
they  knew.  They  stood  round  him;  Philip  and 
Luke  quite  close  to  him;  they  were  filled 
with  fear  and  reverence,  and  did  not  know 
what  to  think  of  it,  or  what  to  do.  But  Edo  had 
begun  counting:  "One,  two,  three,  four,"  and 
so  on  —  fearing  that  one  might  be  wanting. 
Then  suddenly. , . ." 

"I  know,  of  course,  his  wife  Game  rushing 
into  the  crowd."  —  The  old  mother  had  got  up, 
and  she  stood  quite  close  to  the  minister,  her 
whole  being  trembling,  as  she  went  on  passi- 
onately: —  "She  woke  up  with  a  start,  for  he 
was  no  longer  in  bed;  and  with  a  shriek  she 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  349 

ran  outside,  down  the  path,  to  the  right,  round 
by  the  rock  to  the  village,  and  there  she  found 
him  among  his  villagers.  'Edol  Edo!'  she 
cried,  as  she  fell  into  his  arms.  And  that  cry 
brought  him  to  his  senses.  But  it  also  took 
away  all  his  strength;  and  he  fell  down,  did 
he  not,  and  the  people  caught  him  up  and 
carried  him,  and  all  his  strength  was  gone  ?  And 
so  they  carried  him  back  to  his  house  in  fche 
night,  up  by  the  steep  path,  while  Philip  and 
Luke  said  to  the  other  people:  'Please  do 
not  all  come,  six  of  you  are  quite  enough. 
Go  home,  you  men  and  women,  and  be  very 
quiet,  for  he  is  very  ill,  our  master!'  But  I 
do  not  know  what  happened  up  there 
in  that  house;  you  must  tell  me  that,  sir; 
for  you  got  the  letter.  Did  he  get  better, 
my  Edo?" 

And  this  brought  Walter  to  the  most  diffi- 
cult part.  And  suddenly,  as  he  realised  that 
this  was  the  right  moment  to  break  the  news, 
he  said:  "No,  he  did  not  get  better,  he  died 
of  it  the  next  day." 

The  spell  of  the  old  woman's  imagination  was 
broken,  and  she  sank  down  by  the  table,  cove- 
ring her  face  with  her  hands,  weeping  gently, 
quietly,  as  if  she  had  wept  many  times  before 
about  the  same  story,  and  as  if  she  had  known 


350  EDO 

it  all  before.  Her  grey  hair  came  put  of  her 
cap  and  fell  over  her  arms  andl  hands. 

Ubbo  got  up  with  a  vacant  stare,  and  went 
to  the  door  and  came  back  again;  he  did  not 
know  what  he  was  doing.  But  this  indecision 
lasted  only  a  moment,  for,  from  the  other 
side  of  the  river  came  the  well-known  cry, 
so  that  he  pulled  himself  together,  the  cry 
of  Ahoy!  Without  a  word  he  went  out  of  the 
door  and  walked  away  under  the  high  trees, 
his  body  swaying  from  right  to  left,  as  is 
the  case  with  old  men;  and  a  moment  later 
he  was  in  his  boat  again,  rowing  with  strong 
arms. 

"You  can  depend  upon  it,"  Dreese  said  later 
on  to  the  men  on  the  Square ;  "you  can  depend 
upon  it  that  the  man  whom  Ubbo  rowed  across 
noticed  nothing  unusual  about  Ubbo,  and  that 
he  did  not  tell  the  man  anything  about  the 
awful  news  which  he  had  just  heard.  We  are 
like  that  in  Eastloorn,  hard  natures,  with  gruff 
faces,  and  of  few  word[s.  I  am  convinced  that 
Ubbo  talked  to  him  about  the  price  of  the 
pigs  at  the  market  from  which  the  man 
came!" 

"I  fear  we  shall  never  learn  how  to  express 
our  sorrow,"  Raders  answered.  "We  shall  never 
be  able  to  learn  what  our  jxarents  did  not 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  351 

know;  and  I  fear  it  will  be  the  same1  with  our 
children." 

It  was  also  said  on  the  Square  that  evening 
that  Walter  had  not  spoken  many  words  of 
comfort  after  he  had  broken  the  sad  news, 
and  that  he  had  not  even  offered  up  a  prayer 
with  the  bereaved  parents.  He  had  gone  away 
as  if  nothing  unusual  had  taken  place. 

Dreese  had  not  omitted  to  tell  this  story 
in  his  usual  manner,  as  if  he  were  trying,  to 
take  some  one  in.  And  he  was  quite  success- 
ful too;  for  he  made  Niesink,  >the  bee-farmer, 
remark :  "Oh,  your  minister  does  not  go  in 
for  that  sort  of  thing.  Senserff  is  quite 
different  I" 

Raders  was  on  the  point  of  answering,  and 
it  is  certain  that  his  defence  of  the  Reformed 
minister  would  have  been  to  the  point.  Bait 
it  was  not  necessary,  for  Schepers  began 
to  speak :  "Look  here,  Niesink,  do  you  think 
that  praying  in  public  is  really  necessary  in 
some  cases?  I  am  sure  that  Uibbo  and  his 
wife  did  not  require  it.  They  were  quite  capable 
of  doing  it  themselves;  their  spirit  was  strong, 
and  not  broken.  Prayer  must  hot  become  an 
outward  show,  and  one  must  know  when  and 
where  it  is  required." 

This  speech,  coming  from  Schepers,  Schepers 


352  EDO 

of  the  Dissenting  Church,  did  Walter  more 
good  than  anything  the  others  might  have  said, 
for  —  they  all  knew  it  —  Schepers  himself 
had  offered  up  a  prayer  aloud  in  the  presence 
of  another  person,  that  of  his  own  minister 
when  he  had  lost  his  wife. 

The  rumour  was  quite  true;  Walter  had 
not  stayed  long  with  the  old  couple  after 
doing  his  duty.  And  he  went  home,  filled 
with  the  one  thought :  he  wondered  what  most 
ministers  would  have  thought  of  his  manner 
of  breaking  the  sad  news  to  the  old  people. 
And  he  was  very  much  afraid  that  they  would 
have  shaken  their  heads  wisely,  and  they  would 
not  have  approved  his  action.  Walter  knew 
quite  well  how  they  would  have  done  it 
themselves,  with  great  unctuousness,  and 
quoting  numbers  of  texts. 

He  did  not  forget  to  find  the  spot  where 
he  had  hidden  his  nest.  He  carried  the  long 
stalks  carefully  over  his  shoulder,  not  to  break 
them,  and  walked  to  his  house  through  the 
village  street,  attracting  much  attention  from 
the  school-boys  who  crowded  behind  him.  And 
at  that  moment  even  he  felt  that  he  was 
not  much  like  a  minister  coming  home  after 
having  accomplished  the  most  difficult  task 
that  a  minister  could  possebly  be  called  upon 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  353 

to  do,  "Oh,  Winfried:,  Winfriedt"  he  sighed. 

Such  was  Walter's  nature. 

When  he  came  into  his  study,  he  placed 
the  long  stajks  with  the  nest  on  the  mantel- 
piece, beside  the  mirror,  and  after  he  had 
admired  the  decoration  he  suddenly  thought 
again  of  the  dead  missionary.  And  without 
any  hesitation  he  knelt  down  by  his  chair 
and  prayed  for  the  poor  bereaved  missionary's 
wife,  who  was  there  on  that  lonely  island, 
in  that  far  country,  alone  with  her  three 
children,  in  that  house  on  the  high  rock. 

The  next  Sunday,  both  ministers  in  the 
village  preached  a  strange  sermon.  The  greater 
part  of  each  sermon  was  devoted  to  the  life 
history  of  Edo,  the  Eastloorn  man.  This  gave 
great  satisfaction  to  both  congregations.  And 
the  people  went  home  not  a  little  impressed. 
Secretly,  they  were  all  very  pleased  that  Edo 
was  one  of  them,  but  they  knew  very  weU 
how  to  hide  their  pride. 

"It  is  a  curious  thing,"  remarked  Wiegen, 
the  Dreamer,  "that  neither  of  the  two  ministers 
made  it  clear  in  their  sermon  to  which  Church 
Edo  belonged,  and,  somehow,  both  the 
Dissenters  and  the  Reformed  Church  seem  to 
think  that  he  belongs  to  both  Churches.  Do 


354 


you   see   it,   men?   The   Kingdom  of  Heaven 
is  greater  than  the  Church." 

The  members  of  both  Churches  were 
beginning  to  understand  Wiegen  better  when 
he  spoke  in  that  way. 


X 
DOUBT 

Mr.  Senserff  had  one  trouble  of  Which  no 
one  knew. 

If  the  elders  had  known  anything  about 
it  they  would  not  have  believed  their 
ears,  and  they  would  have  been  puzzled  to 
know  how  to  act. 

"But  the  minister  kept  it  well  out  of  sight; 
none  of  the  members  of  his  Church  ever  noticed 
it  at  all. 

He  was  not  better  thaji  any  other  person 
then,  for  he  also  had  his  secret  chamber, 
where  he  dared  not  allow  any  one  to  enter. 
He  had  the  door  well  locked;  the  shutters 
were  closed,  and  never  opened.  There  in 
the  darkness  he  guarded  his  secret  very 
carefully,  and  the  minister  himself  was  the 
dog  that  lay  at  the  door,  rising  up  and 
growling  if  anyone  put;  his  hand  on  the 
knob. 


356  DOUBT 

Mr.  Senserff's  secret  was  that  he  was  often 
subject  to  much  doubting. 

Merciful  heavens!  how  could  that  be 
possible?  If  it  had  even  been  Walter!  Walter, 
the  man  of  the  Reformed  "congregation!" 
One  could  expect  anything  from  him;  but 
Senserff?  How  could  it  be  possible? 

If  the  fact  had  been  known  to  the  elders 
of  both  Churches,  then  one  could  have  imagined 
the  following  conversation  being  held  between 
the  two  sets  of  elders  on  the  Scjuare. 

"Schepers,"  Raders,  the  elder  of  the 
Reformed  Church  would  have  said,  "what  do 
you  think  of  this,,  that  even  your  minister  has 
his  doubts  about  the  truth?" 

And  Schepers,  feeling  ashamed,  would  have 
held  his  tongue,  as  one  who  does  not  know 
what  to  say 

But  Niesink,  the  bee-farmer,  would  have 
helped  him:  "You  hjad  better  be  silent,  for 
who  knows,  Raders,  what  a  doubter  your 
minister  may  be!" 

"Have  you  ever  hoard  of  that  then?  No,  my 
taan,  you  do  not  hear  swch  things  about  ours!" 

"It  is  rather  like  the  man,  though.  I  should 
have  suspected  him  of  it  sooner  than  our 
minister.  That  man  with  his  cheerful  face, 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  35^ 

who  is  continually  laughing,  —  can  he  be 
serious  ?" 

"Why  do  you  want  to  measures  a  man's 
seriousness  by  his  cheerful  face?  Is  Senserff 
more  serious  because  he  always  looks  gruff 
and  gloomy  ?" 

"Walter  is  always  full  of  fun;  if  you  were 
sitting  in  the  train  to  Zwtille  and  you  heard 
him  there,  you  would  not  think  he  wa$  a 
minister!" 

It  seemed  to  Schepers  that  the  bee-farmer 
was  going  rather  too  far  in  his  zeal  to  defend 
Senserff.  Although  it  was  for  a  good  cause,  it 
was  rather  too  sharply  put  for  an  inhabitant 
of  Eastloorn,  and  he  pulled  Niesmk's  sleeve 
to  remind  him  of  the  customary  calmness  of  his 
people. 

But  the  latter  answered:  "Why  should  I 
not  say  it,  Schepers?" 

"You  do  not  understand  our  minister," 
Raders  said,  and  he  remained  quite  unruffled, 
which  raised  him  above  nis  adversary.  "If 
Walter  with  his  cheerful  face  comes  to  a  man 
who  is  in  difficulties,  and  he!  sits  there  for 
half  an  hour,  he  can  go  away;  that  man  will 
have  plucked  up  courage  f  That's  what  cheerful 
talking  does;  just  you  try  and  do  it  with  a 
gloomy  face  I  Shall  I  tell  yoiu  wftat  he  saKTthe 


358  DOUBT 

other  day  in  a  sermon:  'Every  one  has  his 
cross  to  bear,  and*  it  is  not  fair  to  worry  any 
one  else  with  one's  cross,  and  to  add  it  to 
what  he  has  to  bear  already,  and  so  make  his 
burden  heavier.'  Do  you  understand  the  secret 
of  OUT  minister's  cheerfulness?  He  also  has 
his  cross  to  bear,  and  some  of  us  know  what 
it  is,  but  who  has  ever  seen  him  come  to 
someone  else  and  even  mention  it?  He  suffers 
his  affliction  alone,  and  keeps  his  cheerfulness 
for  others!  That  is  the  shepherd's  true  task, 
I  should  think!" 

"And  about  that  incident  in  the  train," 
Ra,ders  continued,  "yon  were  there  yourself, 
Schepers,  —  was  not  the  end  that  those  cattle- 
dealers  moved  up  and  listened  to  him  as  people 
who  did  not  understand  themselves,  and  were 
astonished  at  themselves  ?  And  when  they  were 
ready  to  leave  the  train,  did  not  one  of  those 
swearers  say:  'I  cannot  see  it,  in  your  dress, 
but  I  believe  you  are  a  minister?'  And  a 
thing  I  have  never  seen  before  was  that,  in 
saying  good-bye,  they  all  shook  hands  in  a 
friendly  and  respectful  manner.  Would  it  have 
been  better  if  he  had  sat  reading  his  paper 
in  a  second-class  carriage,  afraid  to  come  out 
with  his  religious  views  ?" 

Schepers,  with  his  gentle  nature,  cmld  not 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  359 

understand  how  Niesink  would  dare  to  say 
any  moire,  and  he  was  surprised  when  he 
saw  the  bee-farmer  flare  up,  as  someone  does 
who  has  been  beaten  in  an  argument,  saying": 
"That  may  be,  —  but  he  is  a  man  for  a.wedding, 
to  sit  at  a  table,  drinking  wine:  and  eating 
cake  in  a  roomful  of  dancing  women  and 
boys;  and  life  is  not  a  wedding  feast;  it  is 
more  like  a  funeral,  as  all  we  men  and.  women 
who  have  lived  the  greater  part  of  our  life 
already  know.  He  is  not  the  man  for  a  funeral'." 
But  now  the  bee-farmer  had  spoilt  his  own 
cause  absolutely,  for  Raders  spoke,  more 
quietly  than  anyone  else  could  have  done. 
"Do  not  compare  our  minister  to  one  of  those 
men  who  goes  the  round  of  the  hoiuses, 
notifying  everyone  of  a  death,  —  one  sees 
them  in  town,  and  recognises  them  by  their 
clothes  and  their  funereal  faces.  But  the  diffe- 
rence between  those  men  and  a  minister  as 
you  would  wish  him  to  be,  —  I  will  not  say 
like  Senserff,  for  he  is  better  than  you  make 
him  out  to  be,  —  is  this,  that  those  men 
announce  a  death  when  it  has  already  taken 
place,  and  that  your  minister,  as  you  wiish 
him  to  be,  goes  from  door  to  door,  telling  the 
people  that  death  is  approaching.  If  a  minister 
does  his  duty,  he  will  be  very  careful  to  tell 


360  DOUBT 

the  people  occasionally  that  death  is  never 
far  off,  but  he  will  not  go  about  with  a  look 
in  his  face  as  if  he  were  always  shadowed 
by  death!  And  then,  Niesink,  you  should  not 
say  that  life  is  more  like  a  funeral  than  a 
wedding.  There  is  an  orchard  behind  my  house, 
and  when  in  spring  the  trees  are  wjiite  with 
blossom  I  say:  'That  is  life.'  And  when  in 
a,utumn  the  branches  are  heavy  with  golden 
apples,  which  hang  among  the  brown  leaves, 
I  say  again:  'That  is  life.'  Life  is  both  a 
funeral  and  a  wedding1,  and,  as  fa)r  as  I  can  see, 
a  funeral  follows  every  wedding;  but,  in  so  far 
as  I  have  read  the  Scriptures,  as  you  have 
done  too,  Niesink,  a  funeral  is  ki variably 
followed  by  a  wedding,  where  our  Lord  is  the 
bridegroom.  That  wedding  shall  be  the  last 
chapter  in  the  history  of  man,  and  that  history 
does  not  end  with  this  earthly  life!  And  if 
you  looked  well  at  our  minister's  cheerful 
face  you  would  think  that  he  is  already  enjoying 
a  foretaste  of  that  eternal  wedding  feast,  — 
but  you  do  not  know  him,  and  you  cannot 
see  through  a  man's  face!" 

"That  may  be  quite  true,"  the  bee-farmer 
said;  "but  I  must  say  that  your  minister  is 
more  likely  to  doubt  than  ours  isl" 

This   conversation  might   have   taken  place 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  361 

among  the  elders  on  the  Square.  But  it  never 
did  take  placed 

Good  heavens!  could  it  be  possible  that 
Senserff  wajs  a  doubter !  Yes,  such  was  the  case ! 
The  man  who  could  pass  such  severe  judgment 
on  unbelievers,  who  could  defend  the  faith  of 
the  prophets  so  warmly  that  he  had  made  his 
name  in  all  the  neighbouring  villages,  who 
could  speak  so  convincingly  that  none  of  his 
followers  doubted  any  more,  —  he  was  a 
doubter  himself.  He,  who  had  been  willing 
to  sacrifice  his  social  position,  his  money,  his 
name,  in  the  cause  of  his  Church,  he  was 
a  doubter,  yea  worse,  an  unbeliever,  some- 
times for  moments,  often  for  weeks  and  months 
at  a  time. 

When  the  elders  of  the  Dissenting  Church 
went  home  after  the  sermon,  and  as  they 
walked  together  to  the  cross-roads,  where 
each  one  wient  down  his  own  path,  they  would 
talk  of  the  well-founded  faith  of  tneir  shepherd, 
and  of  his  sincere  conviction  of  everything 
concerning  that  faith. 

"I  wish  I  were  as  sure  of  myself,"  Schepers 
said. 

"I  might  have  thought  that  of  you,"  the 
bee-farmer  said;  "you  are  nearer  the  minister 


362  DOUBT 

than  any  of  us.   What   must   we  say   then?" 

"No,  no,  you  cannot  know  how  the  devil 
tempts  me  as  I  follow  my  sheep,"  Schepers 
said;  but  they  never  got  any  more  out > of  him. 

But  the  truth  was  that  the  minister  was 
often  troubled  with  doubts,  very  grave  doubts. 
Had  they  known,  what  could  they  have  said? 
The  ground  would  have  slipped  away  from 
beneath  their  feet.  The  shepherd  would  have 
thought  that  the  whole  country  had  become 
marshland;  the  housekeeper  would  have  given 
notice.  A  great  shame  would  have  come  over 
all;  they  would  not  have  dared  to  look  the 
members  of  the  Reformed  Church  in  the  face. 

That  doubt  would  come  over  him  very 
secretly;  and  Senserff  fought  against  it  secretly 
too.  And  then,  when  the  time  had  come,  it 
would  disappear  secretly  too.  Who  ever  heard 
about  it  at  all  ? 

And  the  doubt  came  in  a  curious  way.  Gently, 
stealthily,  unnoticed,  —  until  suddenly  one  day 
Senserff  would  notice  that  he  was  in  the  midst 
of  it.  Neither  did  he  know  when  it  had  begun. 

"Let  me  think,"  he  would  say;  "when  and 
on  what  occasion  did  it  begin?  Yesterday? 
the  day  before  yesterday?  No,  it  must  be 
longer  ago;  but  I  cannot  remember  1  Neither 
can  I  remember  the  cause  of  it  I" 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  363 

He  would  think  until  his  brain  was  tired 
with  thinking,  but  without  avail;  there  was 
no  reason  for  his  doubting;  it  had  neither  father 
nor  mother,  and  was  without  a  beginning. 

"If  the  doubting  from  which  I  suffer  does 
not  come  from  outside,  it  must  have  its  'being 
in  me,  and  it  must  be  in  my  blood;  so  in  that 
case  I  must  be  all  the  more  vigilant!" 

But  his  vigilance  did  not  help  him  much; 
in  a  couple  of  days  he  would  be  worse  than 
ever ;  and  then  he  would  be  inclined  to  consider 
himself  incurable. 


There  was  only  one  man  who  at  any  time 
was  granted  a  glimpse  into  his  soul;  and  this 
was  his  father-in-law,  who  came  over  from 
Gueldres  occasionally. 

The  friendship  between  these  two  men  had 
become  even  warmer  after  Helen's  death. 
Neither  of  them  knew  which  had  suffered  the 
more  by  that  loss,  but  the  bond  of  their  love 
had  been  strengthened  by  it. 

Sometimes  they  would  start  off  on  a  long 
walk  immediately  after  breakfast,  and  only 
return  towards  dinnertime.  They  would  get 
some  lunch  somewhere,  far  away  in  the  wood, 
or,  still  further,  beyond  the  hills,  where  only 


364  DOUBT 

an  occasional  hut  stood  on  the  wide  moor. 
Their  love  of  nature  was  insatiable. 

And  sometimes  Senserff  would  start  talking. 
"Yesterday  I  was  telling  the  small  children 
at  my  confirmation  class  about  Abram;  about 
that  time  when  he  sat  before  his  tent  and 
three  angels  came  to  him  and  he  entertained 
them.  God  was  one  of  the  angels,  was  he  not? 
And  they  ate  of  three  measures  of  fine  meal 
and  of  a  calf,  tender  and  good,  and  butter  and 
milk.  And  the  children  liked  the  story  as  I  told 
it.  They  saw  the  shepherd's  tent  and  the  large 
oaks  towering  over  it,  and  the  typical  Eastern 
picture  of  the  meal  spread  out  on  the  ground, 
in  the  shade  of  the  oaks,  in  the  heat  of  the 
day.  But,  while  I  was  talking  and,  I  was  making 
the  story  attractive,  I  assure  you  I  laughed 
within  myself  about  those  men,  as  Sara  did  on 
that  occasion.  God  sitting  on  the  ground  eating, 
and  that  for  serveral  hours;  —  I  will  not  enlarge 
upon  ft  to  you,  I  should  almost  become  irreve- 
rent. I  laughed,  I  laughed  as  Sara  did!  How 
could  that  be?  How  in  eternity  could  that  be? 
When  the  class  was  over,  I  dfd  not  believe  that 
incident  any  more,  and  I  am  still  of  the  same 
opinion,  father!" 

"A  fine  confession  for  a  Dissenting  minister 
to  make!"  Mr,  Van  Heumen  replied.  "If  we 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  365 

Reformed  ministers  were  to  think  in  that  way 
now!"  And  that  curious  man  laughed  heartily, 
as  if  the  incident  were  of  very  little  importance. 

"Do  you  not  consider  it  very  wrong,  then, 
that  I  think  in  that  way  sometimes?" 

"Wrong  enough,  my  boy ;  but  not  bad  enough 
to  become  discouraged!  Am  I  not  a  minister 
myself?  And  do  I  not  know  what  is  In  the 
heart  of  a  minister?" 

"Well,  I  suppose  you  have  had  your  times 
of  doubting  too,  but  it  is  risky  to  say  such  a 
thing,"  Senserff  said,  laughing  in  his  turn. 

"But  tell  me,  my  boy,  did  those  doubts 
about  the  truth  of  that  incident  come  over 
you  as  you  were  relating  it,  or  was  that  kind 
of  unbelieving  there  before?" 

"The  unbelief  came  over  me  as  I  was  talking, 
but  I  have  had  the  same  feeling  about  a 
hundred  other  Bible  stories.  God  is  always 
walking  upon  the  earth,  and  He  is  always 
talking  to  the  people,  sometimes  to  Abraham, 
sometimes  to  Jacob,  and  then  to  Moses,  and 
to  so  many  others.  It  is  the  same  with  the 
Greeks;  Zeus  is  always  appearing  before  his 
Greeks;  only  I  must  admit  that  the  appearan- 
ces of  Zeus  are  of  another  character.  They 
are  sensual  tales;  and  here,  in  the  Bible, 
God's  appearances  are  always  untainted  and 


366  DOUBT 

pure  and  very  holy,  with  child-like  inno- 
cence." 

"Of  course,  you  must  doubt  many  other 
things  besides  these  appearances,  do  you  not?" 

"Oh,  yes,  when  once  I  get  started  these 
doubts  extend  to  almost  every  other  point; 
everything  is  so  closely  united.  I  very  often 
have  moments  when  everything  seems  loose, 
as  a  building  which  has  been  erected,  but 
in  which  the  carpenter  has  forgotten  all  the 
nails;  one  push  and  the  house  will  be  shat- 
tered, a  heap  of  boards  on  the  ground  I  My 
belief  is  very  rickety,  father!" 

And  sometimes  Senserff  would  go  on  talking 
for  half  an  hour  in  the  same  strain,  enlarging 
upon  his  doubts  on  all  subjects. 

The  man  sometimes  did  not  believe  in  the 
deity  of  Jesus.  "Just  fancy,  try  and  imagine  it! 
a  son  of  God  in  the  heavens,  and  then  conceived 
in  a  virgin  —  typical  Eastern  tale,  the  transub- 
stantiation  of  God.  Just  spin  it  out ;  and  nothing 
will  remain  of  it!" 

Sometimes  he  did  not  believe  in  the  deity 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.  "The  other  day  I  had 
preached  in  another  place.  It  was  Whitsuntide, 
and  I  was  very  much  annoyed  about  my 
sermon;  I  could  make  nothing  of  it:  the  third 
person  in  the  Trinity?  If  there  was  anyone 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  367 

unhappy  that  day,  it  was  I.  The  next  day  my 
friend  Rechtman  comes  driving  through  the 
village,  gets  out  and  has  lunch  with  me.  Still 
exultant  about  the  beautiful  festival  which 
has  just  been  celebrated,  he  cries:  'How 
delightful,  dear  brother,  to  deal  with  the 
Pentecost  doctrine  before  our  congregations 1* 
I  look  at  him  and  remark:  'It  is  the  most  diffi- 
cult doctrine  in  the  Holy  Scriptures  to 
explain  I'  And  I  api  on  the  point  of  uttering  my 
opinion.  But  I  change  my  mind  and  say! 
'There  are  wicked  people  nowadays,  Rechtman, 
who  do  not  believe  in  the  Holy  Ghost  as  a 
person !  What  do  you  say  to  that,  old  man  ?'  — 
And  the  fellow  really  imagines  that  I  am 
accusing  him  of  it,  and  says  triumphantly: 
'Well,  well,  I  have  fortunately  from  my  youth 
upwards  never  doubted  in  the  Holy  Ghost 
as  a  person;  it  is  so  delightful  never  even  to 
have  known  the  cliffs  of  unbelief  f  —  After 
that,  I  just  talked  to  him  about  his  peas  and 
his  carrots,  that  were  already  coming  up,  and 
about  his  hens,  that  were  too  fat  to  lay  eggs." 
Sometimes  he  did  not  believe  in  the  recon* 
ciliation  through  Christ.  Senserff  was  very  sad 
when  he  touched  upon  this  subject ;  and  his 
tone  altered  altogether ;  there  was  none  of 
his  former  sarcasm.  He  spoke  about  it,  as 


368  DOUBT 

someone  who  had  sustained  a  great  loss;  as 
one  who  had  lost  something  and  who  would 
like  it  back,  because  it  was  the  very  best 
thing  he  ever  possessed.  "God  could  surely 
forgive  at  once,  father,  without  letting  his  Son 
die  first!  The  father  in  the  parable  of  the 
prodigal  son  did  not  require  the  intervention 
of  another  son,  who  sacrificed  himself,  to 
forgive  the  prodigal  all.  That  forgiveness  was 
granted  at  once." 

The  two  men  were  standing  by  a  stream. 
A  board  was  laid  across  it,  but  Senserff  (took 
a  run  and  jumped  across. 

"If  only  you  could  jump  across  all  your 
doubts  in  the  same  way,"  Van  Heumen  said 
with  a  laugh,  "I  suppose  that  means  a  spiritual 
need  which  you  satisfy  by  bodily  exercise?'* 

"Oh,  father,  I  always  jump  over  the  ditches, 
even  when  I  am  visiting  the  people;  and  then 
my  elder  does  not  understand  why  I  do  it, 
because  there  are  boards  across  all  of  them. 
These  people  have  no  ditches  which  lie  across 
their  roads.  And  sometimes  I  climb  into  a 
tree,  into  one  of  the  highest  trees  which  grow 
here  in  the  wood.  The  other  day  I  saw  Walter 
walking  underneath,  busy  throwing  stones  at 
the  squirrels'  nests;  probably  also  to  satisfy 
a  spiritual  need  by  bodily  exercise!" 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  369 

"That  is  not  unusual.  I  know  a  minister 
who  cuts  down  all  his  timber  himself.  His 
maid  thinks  it  is  stinginess  that  he  does  not 
employ  a  man  to  do  it;  but  I  can  assure  you 
that  after  chopping  wood  for  an  hour  he  feels 
a  different  person.  And  in  the  same  way  I 
quite  understand  that  mania  for  swimming 
of  another  fellow-minister  who  lived  near  the 
sea.  Why  should  he  go  swimming  in  the  sea, 
by  preference  far  away,  if  not  to  give  his 
thoughts  another  turn  for  half  an  hour,  and 
to  bathe  in  another  element  than  the  one 
he  bathed  in  all  day?" 

"But,"  Van  Heumen  continued,  as  they 
walked  one  behind  the  other  on  the  narrow  path 
which  wound  its  way  across  the  wide  moor, 
"surely  you  do  not  always  feel  as  you  have  just 
been  telling  me  about?" 

"Oh  dear,  no  I  It  is  only  periodical !  It  passes 
away!  Otherwise  of  course,  I  should  have  to 
resign  I  And  it  goes  as  it  has  come;  I  do  not 
know  how.  Gradually  it  passes  until  I  notice 
one  day  that  I  am  joyful  in  the  forgiveness  of 
Christ,  and  I  detect  myself  having  triumphant 
feelings,  which  are  unbounded.  It  comes  and 
it  goes,  so  that  I  do  not  know  where  it  began, 
nor  where  it  ended." 

"Then   I    will   not   fight  against   it   either," 


370  DOUBT 

said  Van  Heumen  with  a  laugh,  as  one  who 
knows  he  is  taking  the  wisest  course.  "It  will 
pass  away  again,  to-day  or  to-morrow."  — 
"But,"  he  continued,  "I  am  rather  curious 
to  know  the  cause;  is  it  caused  by  what  you 
read?  What  do  you  read?  Novels?" 

"Novels,  piles  of  them,  and  all  sorts;  I  have 
time  for  it.  The  greatest  readers  are  found 
in  the  country  parishes,  father.  Those  in  the 
towns  do  not  require  books.  They  live  in  the 
midst  of  a  novel." 

"You  are  wrong  there,  my  boy'  Is  that  why 
the  poets  nowadays  delight  in  seeking  their 
subjects  in  the  country?  I  suppose  there  is 
no  poetry  about  your  village  ?  And  no  one  will 
ever  write  a  book  about  the  things  in  your 
village?  It  is  high  time  authors  should  stop 
writing  pastoral  novels!  You  will  see  one 
coming  here  some  day  and  he  will  put  your 
village  and  your  personality  into  a  book;  how 
delightful  for  you  to  find  yourself  made  into 
a  hero  of  fiction!" 

"But  you  must  not  believe,  father,  that  the 
novels  are  at  the  root  of  it.  I  cannot  understand 
how  a  novel  can  make  a  person  either  believing 
or  unbelieving.  I  read  a  novel  the  other  day 
about  an  English  clergyman  who  talked  a 
great  deal  with  his  squire,  and  heard  from 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  371 

him  all  the  reasons  upon  which  the  unauthen- 
ticity  of  the  Bible  may  be  founded."  — 
Sensejff  did  not  name  the  book,  but  Van 
Heumen  knew  at  once  which  one  he  meant.  — 
"What  a  foolish  fellow,  to  let  himself  be  made 
unbelieving  by  arguments!  The  squire  won! 
And  the  clergyman  very  sadly  let  go  his  faith!" 

"Just  like  you;  you  are  grieved  when  you 
sometimes  lose  your  faith.  That  is  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  sorts  of  grief  which  exist." 
And  once  more  Van  Heumen  laughed. 

"But  the  most  remarkable  part  of  it  all  is 
not  the  book,  but  this,  that  I  have  heard  that 
many  men  and  women  who  have  read  the  book 
are  just  as  far  on  as  that  clergyman ;  they  have 
become  unbelievers.  lust  fancy,  through  a 
novel!" 

"I  explain  it  in  this  way:  their  unbelief  must 
have  been  there  before  they  started  reading, 
and  when  they  read  the  book  they  found 
thoughts  in  it  to  which  they  already  adhered. 
You  are  quite  right;  do  not  let  anyone  tell  you 
that  one  person  was  made  an  unbeliever  by  it." 

"The  wisdom  of  novels  is  all  second-hand 
knowledge.  How  absurd  of  us  to  read  novels!" 

"Why  do  you  read  them  then?" 

"Well,  for  the  art!  I  have  a  little  artistic 
feeling,  and  that  feeling  sometimes  demajids 


372  DOUBT 

satisfaction.  Another  person  can  go  to  concerts 
in  the  great  cities;  or  he  can  see  the  plays  in 
the  theatre;  or  he  can  visit  exhibitions  and 
see  the  best  works  of  our  artists  and  sculptors ; 
or,  again,  he  can  go  to  Corinth;  but  I,  I  must 
find  it  in  a  book.  My  friend  Rechtman  has 
much  artistic  feeling  and  much  artistic  taste; 
and  yet  he  never  reads  a  bookl" 

"Then,  if  you  want  knowledge,  you  get  it 
from  the  dry  books  of  the  philosophers,  so 
that  you  are  sure  of  getting  it  first-hand  ?" 

"Exactly!  I  wish  they  would  stop  writing 
novels  with  a  purpose-'  If  a  philosopher  writes 
a  novel,  his  learning  plays  him  false,  and  if 
the  poet  writes  philosophy,  his  poetical  instinct 
plays  him  false;  it  is  no  good;  amphibious 
cackle  In  both  cases!" 

"But  I  know  quite  well  how  your  doubting 
comes  about.  Those  dry  books  do  the  deed. 
Novels  make  no  impression  on  you,  I  quite  see 
that.  Only  a  little  nouveau  riche  woman 
from  the  middle-classes  would  be  influenced  by 
them,  affect  an  important  air  at  her  evening 
parties,  saying  to  her  friends:  'Now  I  have 
read  that  novel,  I  do  not  believe  anything 
mone.'  It  is  learning,  pure  and  simple,  which 
is  your  enemy;  do  you  not  think  so  too?" 

"No,  father,   it  is  not  that!   I  have  always 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  373 

been  of  Kant's  opinion,  that  great  German, 
who  wrote:  'Whenever  I  see  an  unbeliever  has 
written  a  book  against  my  faith  I  think:  Oh, 
I  must  read  that  at  once,  and  I  shall  laugh 
about  it  and  be  amused.  And  when,  on  the 
other  hand,  a  believer  writes  a  thing  which 
might  strengthen  my  faith,  I  invariably  ihjnk, 
in  a  half-hearted  sort  of  way:  I  must  not  read 
that,  I  have  laughed  too  much  about  it 
already/  Could  learning  possibly  make  a  man 
a  believer  or  an  unbeliever?" 

"I  do  not  know,  but,  all  the  same,  learning 
can  be  a  very  formidable  obstacle  to  religion. 
And  that  same  learning  may  come  to  a  point 
where  it  will  render  religion  the  best  possible 
service." 

"I  cannot  accept  that.  What  has  my  intellect 
got  to  do  with  my  feelings?  If  my  feelings  tell 
me  I  love  a  girl,  my  intellect  may  assert  what 
it  likes,  but  my  feelings  will  get  the  upper  hand; 
that  love  is  deaf,  and  will  remain  there  even 
though  my  intellect  may  prove  that  my  love 
should  cease." 

'But  religion  is  not  a  case  of  love?  A  few 
people  may  take  it  in  that  way,  but  their  religion 
is  like  the  love  of  a  sixteen-year  old  boy, 
which  in  later  years  is  replaced  by  a  different 
kind  of  love."  The  old  man  was  only  trying 


374  DOUBT 

to    excite    his    son-in-law,    and    was   smiling 
inwardly  at  his  own  remarks. 

"But,  father,  if  religion  is  not  love,  what 
is  it  then?  It  may  be  the  love  of  a  sixteen- 
year  old  boy  or  that  of  a  man  of  sixty.  And 
look  here:  —  I  myself  am  filled  with  that  love; 
it  is  very  wonderful  and  very  deep.  I  do 
not  know  when  it  was  born,  that  love  to  God; 
how  long  have  I  loved  ?  Can  my  soul  have  been 
born  in  God's  sphere  before  that  soul  was 
made  flesh  ?  Is  thaft  why  my  soul  longs  for  God  ? 
I  am,  in  a  way,  like  Joop,  —  you  know  him, 
I  have  told  you  a'bout  him,  the  son  of  Ake, 
that  vagabond,  —  sometimes  he  must  come 
back  from  Rotterdam;  he  must  come  here 
when  he  feels  he  can  stand  it  no  longer. 
True,  he  is  always  in  danger  here;  the  feud 
follows  him,  and  it  will  be  his  death  one  day, 
if  I  know  the  men  of  Eastloorn.  But  he  must 
come  back;  something  drives  him.  I  know 
he  came  once  after  he  had  been  away  for 
four  years.  He  came  back  to  the  hut,  which 
you  see  over  there;  he  came  rushing  across 
the  moor,  and  threw  himself  down  on  the 
ground;  he  buried  his  hands  wildly  in  the 
earth;  he  lay  with  his  face  among  the  heather, 
he  bit  the"  flowers,  and  he  shrieked  until  his 
mother  came  running  outside  and  found  him. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  375 

I  am  like  Joop  father;  whenever  I  have  been 
far  from  God  for  some  time,  then  I  simply  must 
go  back,  and  I  also  fall  down,  in  a  way  whicjh 
might  make  people  think  that  I  am  mad  with 
satisfied  longing.  And  if  I  am  shown  a  book 
which  has  been  written  against  this,  my  love, 
then  I  laugh,  and  I  also  laugh  when  I  am 
shown  a  book  which  tries  to  prove  that  my 
love  is  quite  natural.  What  then  has  learning 
to  do  with  religion?" 

"I  understand;  you  want  to  say  that  a  man's 
religion  can  only  be  influenced  by  learning 
if  it  is  intellectual  and  of  the  mind;  but  not 
if  according  to  your  conception,  it  is  a  religion 
of  love.  In  that  case  learning  looks  on  as  a 
stranger,  to  whom  love  says:  'I  do  not  know 
you,  you  can  either  stay  here,  or  go  away,  you 
are  not  in  my  way.'  —  But,  after  all  this  talking, 
I  have  not  yet  found  out  how  your  doubts 
originate." 

Both  men  were  silent. 

They   had   reached   Ake's   dilapidated    hut. 

They  saw  the  tumble-down  thatched  room, 
with  which  the  stormwind  had  played  havoc. 
They  saw  the  planks,  which  were  coming 
loose,  and  Senserff  bored  a  hole  with  his 
stick  through  the  mouldering  wood.  They  saw 
the  well  with  the  old  chain,  and  beside  it, 


376  DOUBT 

on  the  ground,  a  leaking  pail.  "Schepers  man 
drank  out  of  it  last,"  Senserff  said. 

They  walked  round  the  hut  to  the  other 
side.  It  was  all  the  same  as  it  used  to  be;  a 
rabbit  scuttled  off  into  a  sand-hole,  and  more 
rabbits  followed. 

They  went  inside.  Nothing  had  changed, 
it  was  all  as  it  had  been  —  the  hearth,  with 
the  burned-down  cinders;  above  it  the  kettle. 
The  bed  looked  as  if  someone  might  have  slept 
in  it  the  night  before.  The  cupboard  was 
still  there,  with  some  old  clothes  and  a  Bible, 
and  beside  it  several  shrivelled-up  sprigs  of 
hawthorn. 

They   went   outside   again. 

"How  is  it,  boy,"  Van  Heumen  said,  "that 
although  Joop  is  driven  back  here  occasionally 
by  a  certain  longing,  he  yet  always  goes  away 
again?" 

"I  understand.  You  want  to  say:  How  is 
it  that  I,  who  have  the  same  longing  for 
God,  can  still  doubt  occasionally?  My  doubts 
drive  me  away  from  the  spot  where  my  longing 
has  brought  me." 

It  was  a  curious  thing  how  in  their  conver- 
sation the  two  men  so  often  seemed  to  change 
places.  The  old  gentleman  liked  to  ask 
questions  after  the  manner  of  Socrates. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  377 

"No,  do  not  hurry  on,  now,"  he  said;  "I 
ask  you,  how  is  it  that  Joop,  who  is  driven  back 
to  his  moor  by  a  mighty  longing,  how  is  it  that 
he  always  returns  after  a  while  to  his  wicked 
life  in  Rotterdam?" 

"I  think  perhaps  the  attraction  of  the  immoral 
is  too  great  for  him,  and  then  he  is  forced 
to  go." 

"Can  your  doubts  originate  in  the  attraction 
of  the  immoral?" 

"I  do  not  understand  you;  at  least,  I  cannot 
believe  that  you  mean  that.  Surely  all  doubters 
are  not  immoral  people?" 

"No,  did  I  say  that?  Then  I  must  express 
myself  better.  Of  course  all  those  who  doubt 
are  not  immoral  people.  I  should  be  the  first 
to  contradict  such  a  statement.  But  —  let 
me  put  it  in  this  way :  when  is  it  that  youf  faith 
in  the  redemption  by  Christ  is  greatest?  It 
goes  without  saying  that  your  faith  in  that 
redemption  is  stronger  at  one  time  than  it  is 
at  another.  When  fe  it  strongest?" 

"It  is  strongest  when  I  feel  the  need  of  it 
most.  There  are  times  when  my  need  seems 
very  small,  and  there  are  times  when  it  is  very 
great.  And  my  faith  in  the  atonement  varies 
according  to  my  need  of  it." 

"Exactly.  And  when  is  your  need  greatest  ?** 


378  DOUBT 

"It  is  greatest  when  I  am  most  oppressed 
with  the  knowledge  of  my  own  sins!" 

"Exactly!  And  when  are  you  most  oppressed 
with  the  knowledge  of  your  own  sins?" 

"That  is  when  the  good  in  me,  the  sense 
of  morality  is  aroused.  When  that  sense  of 
morality  is  asleep  I  am  quite  at  peace  with 
myself.  But  when  it  is  awakened  it  cries  out  for 
the  wiping  out  of  those  sins  and  the  recon- 
ciliation with  God,  and  it  cries  out  for  Christ, 
for  it  cannot  exist  without  Him." 

"Well  then,  the  cause  of  your  doubting  is 
quite  clear.  Let  me  repeat  my  question:  Can 
your  doubting  have  its  origin  in  the  attraction 
of  the  immoral?'* 

"My  dear  father,  I  do  not  understand." 

"I  see  I  shall  have  to  explain  exactly  what 
I  mean  by  immoral.  The  word  immoral  means 
not  only  what  most  people  understand  by  It; 
what  I  consider  immoral  is  the  immorality 
of  believers  who  consider  themselves  very  good,. 
And  it  is  impossible  that  faith  can  hold  its 
own  when  this  feeling  exists!" 

The  young  man  was  silent  for  a  long  time. 

They  had  come  to  a  part  of  the  moor  where 
there  was  a  curious  vegetation. 

Here  the  toll  holly  bushes  grow  instead 
of  the  short  heather;  the  prickly  dark  green 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  379 

leaves  wounded  their  hands  if  they  were  not 
very  careful.  The  holly  bushes  grew  in  groups, 
as  if  they  had  been  planted  by  men's  hands, 
and  a  narrow  path  wound  it's  way  among  them. 
It  was  not  possible  to  see  across  the  moor, 
and  the  two  men  had  to  peep  through  the 
bushes  to  catch  sight  of  it  The  branches 
.were  covered  with  last  year's  berries,  and  the 
red  colour  looked  beautiful  against  the  dark 
green  leaves. 

When  they  had  pafesed  the  holly  bushes, 
they  came  to  a  large  field  of  juniper  shrubs, 
a  mass  of  soft  pale  blue  colour,  tinged  with 
the  deep  purple  of  the  berries.  As  the  two  men 
reached  the  top  of  the  hill,  they  stood  gazing 
across  the  wide  juniper  field,  which  extended 
for  about  a  mile.  The  shrubs  had  the 
appearance  of  curiously  shaped  rocks  fallen 
down  on  the  poire  wjiite  sand,  and  it  almost 
gave  them  the  impression  of  being  in  a^desert. 

"A  large  patch  of  juniper  shrubs  is  a  rare 
thing  in  our  country,"  the  older  man  remarked; 
"I  only  know  one  other,  it  is  near  Ruurlo, 
a  long  way  from  the  village." 

"But  think  about  it,"  he  continued  in  the 
same  breath;  "I  am  really  repeating  the  same 
thing,  although  I  may  express  it  in  a  different 
.way.  Those  doubts  about  Christ's  redemption 


38o  DOUBT 

generally  spring  up  when,  according  to  our 
own  ideas,  we  have  lived  a  very  good  and 
moral  life  for  a  week  or  a  fortnight.  That 
feeling  of  our  owto  goodness  takes  away  the 
need  of  reconciliation,  and  that  in  its  turn 
does  away  with  faith,  and  then  suddenly  one 
day,  without  any  apparent  reason,  not  caused 
by  the  reading  of  a  novel  or  a  learned  book, 
we  notice  that  our  doubts  are  there  once  more, 
and  then  we  say:  'My  doubting  has  neither 
father  nor  mother  and  is  without  an  origin.' 
Think  it  over,  my  boy!" 

Not  many  days  later  something  occurred 
which  made  Senserff  think  very  deeply  alxmt 
this  subject,  and  which  cured  him  of  his  doubts 
for  a  considerable  time. 

Joop  had  once  more  appeared  in  the  village. 

He  had  been  driven  back  and  he  had 
returned,  leaving  the  distant  city  far  behind 
him.  He  had  not  said  to  his  master:  "I  am 
going  away;"  he  had  not  said  to  his  friends  in 
the  public-house:  "I  an  going  away."  But  it 
had  come  over  him  suddenly.  And  it  happened 
in  this  way. 

One  morning  he  had  left  his  lodgings  at 
five  o'clock  to  go  to  his  work  in  the  docks. 
And  as  he  was  walking  across  the  "Wijnhaven" 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  381 

on  his  way  to  the  docks,  he  noticted  a  woman 
in  one  of  the  boats,  a  woman  who  was  busy 
putting  turf  into  a  stove,  in  order  to  boil 
some  water.  The  smoke  of  the  peat  came  out 
of  the  little  chimney  and  was  blown  across 
the  harbour  towards  the  houses.  Joop  breathed 
in  the  smoke,  and  —  suddenly  he  stood  still. 

"That  peat  conies  from  Eastloorn,"  he  said, 
and  he  could  not  walk  on. 

In  his  imagination  he  saw  Eastloorn,  the 
little  path  which  led  from  the  moor  to  the 
village.  When  he  went  towards  the  village 
from  his  mother's  hut,  and  reached  the  first 
houses,  he  remembered  smelling  the  smoke 
of  peat  which  came  from  the  chimneys.  The 
picture  was  complete. 

He  leant  against  the  railing  of  the  "Wijnbrug" 
and  breathed  deeply,  and  gazed  ahead.  But 
he  did  not  see  those  boats  lying  in  front  of 
him  in  the  early  morning. 

"Drunk  already?  Hold  on  to  the  railing!"  a 
workman  who  came  by  shouted,  but  he  did 
not  hear. 

He  saw  his  village;  the  tower,  where  old 
Ilting  would  ring  the  bell  at  six  o'clock;  the 
trees  round  it,  almost  reaching  to  the  roof 
of  the  church;  the  bridge  with  Heister  the 
bridge-man  leaning  across  the  railing,  always 


382  DOUBT 

gazing  into  the  water;  the  farms  with  the 
flowering  apple-trees,  pink  and  white;  the  river 
which  flowed  across  the  fields,  the  cows  grazing 
on  the  dyke  on  either  side;  the  pinewoods, 
the  coppice,  the  moor,  his  mother's  hut 

The  devil  of  homesickness  had  seized  hold 
of  himi 

He  had  a  little  money,  which  he  always 
carried  about  with  him.  And  suddenly  he 
rushed  along  the  "Wijnhaven"  to  the  "Maas-" 
station;  homel  home  I 

For  one  moment  in  the  train,  the  thought 
crept  over  him:  "There  in  Eastloorn  big  Garst 
is  waiting  for  me,  the  brother  of  golden- 
haired  Reeze,  who  will  make  me  pay  for  what 
I  dM  to  his  sister  I"  It  was  only  for  a  moment 
though;  the  Beelzebub  of  homesickness  drove 
away  the  Beekebub  of  fear. 

And  so  Joop  returned  to  Eastloorn. 

The  villagers  said:  "How  dare  he  come 
back,  the  vagabond?" 

And  those  who  knew  even  more  about  it 
said:  "How  dare  he?  Now  surely  big  Garst 
will  revenge  his  sister  1" 

Joop  lay  sleeping  in  his  mother's  hut,  in  the 
bed  which  the  old  woman  used  to  let  him  have 
when  he  came  home,  while  she  herself  spent 
the  night  lying  on  the  floor. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  383 

And  when  he  awoke,  he  fixed  his  eyes  on 
the  window.  The  window  was  almost  fallen 
to  pieces  and  could  not  be  closed;  so  he  had 
left  it,  as  it  made  no  difference  to  him.  Joop 
had  not  slept  any  the  worse  on  that  account. 

He  lay  there,  his  eyes  wide  open,  wondering 
what  he  should  do.  It  was  still  very  early; 
he  wondered  if  the  sun  had  risen  yet.  Should 
he  dig  out  some  rabbits?  Or  should  he  lie  in 
wait  for  the  sleeping  ducks  in  the  marsh? 

All  at  once  he  saw  a  man  appear  at  the 
window. 

Joop's  hair  stood  on  end. 

The  man  was  Garst.  "Gome  outside,  Joop!" 
he  commanded,  as  he  opened  the  window 
still  wider. 

And  the  vagabond  heard  the  man  who  sought 
his  life  go  round  the  house  by  the  window 
to  the  door,  and  he  knew  that  he  was  resting 
his  tall  and  heavy  body  against  the  door-post, 
waiting  patiently  as  if  he  were  in  no  hurry  to 
commit  his  murder,  yet  very  careful  lest  his 
prey  might  slip  out  of  his  grasp. 

Joop  jumped  out  of  the  bed,  in  which  he 
had  lain  fully  dressed,  with  his  boots  on.  He 
felt  in  his  pocket  for  his  knife,  —  it  was  there. 

He  stood  by  the  door,  the  rickety  door. 
"Good  heavens!"  he  thought;  "if  Garst  wants 


384  DOUBT 

to,  he  qan  push  in  that  door  with  lOne,  finger, 
and  then  foe  fight  from  which  one  of  us  will 
never  rise  again  can  begin!"  The  vagabond 
feared  the  worst. 

"What  do  you  want,  Garst?"  he  said, 
shouting  as  someone  does  who  wants  to  show 
his  courage  in  his  voice. 

"Come  outside,  I  say!  Do  you  think  I  want 
to  murder  you  in  your  mother's  house  ?  Could 
I  not  have  jumped  in  by  the  window  in  that 
case  ?"  It  was  the  calm  voice  of  a  man  who  has 
made  up  his  mind  irrevocably. 

For  pne  moment  Joop  wavered  and  wondered 
whether  he  should  take  the  risk.  He  knew  that 
he  was  strong,  and  surely  he  could  win.  Why 
not?  But  suddenly  he  remembered  the  buck- 
wheat field  where  once  he  had  killed  a  man. 
He  saw  again  Ruurd's  dead  body,  and  the 
blood  on  the  white  flowers  of  the  buckwheat. 

"Go  away,  Garst!"  he  cried;  "I  do  not  want 
a  second  man  on  my  conscience.  There,  now 
you  know  who  killed  the  bell-ringer's  son; 
do  you  want  to  be  a  dead  man,  .too?" 

A  harsh  laugh  was  his  only  answer. 

And  without  a  word,  Joop  jumped  out  of 
the  window,  and  ran  across  the  wide  moor, 
which  extended  right  into  Germany. 

"Damn!"     was    all    the    giant    said    when 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  385 

he  saw  that  the  fugitive  was  about  ten  feet 
ahead  of  him. 

And  then  the  wild  chase  began,  the  chase 
of  a  man  to  whom  life  still  seemed  valuable, 
being  the  greatest  gift  which  the  world  could 
offer  him. 

The  two  Iran,  each  holding  a  glittering  knife 
in  his  "hand,  —  the  one  pursuing,  and  quite 
prepared  to  inflict  a  wound  with  that  knife,  and 
the  other  pursued,  but  also  quite  ready,  if 
necessary,  to  turn  round  suddenly  and  to  run 
the  knife  into  the  giant's  body.  The  steel 
glittered  in  the  rays  of  the  rising  sun. 

Joop  ran  for  all  he  was  worth;  the  uneven 
country  did  not  hinder  him;  he  could  have 
kicked  the  hares  on  his  way,  hares  which 
were  surprised  before  they  had  time  to  fly. 

He  had  coyered  a  great  distance  in  a  few 
moments  without  looking  round,  —  when  he 
did,  the  giant  was  close  behind.  Neither  of 
the  two  had  gained  an  inch. 

They  went  on  and  on,  and  half  an  hour 
elapsed.  Joop  looked  round  again  —  the  giant 
was  not  running  as  fast  as  he  was;  —  and  he 
shouted,  a  shout  of  victory.  He  began  to  hope 
that  the  fight  might  be  avoided. 

They  came  to  the  holly  bushes;  they  rushed 
through  them,  while  the  branches  scratched 


386  DOUBT 

their  faces;  the  sharp,  prickly  leaves  wounded 
their  faces  and  hands  so  that  drops  of  blood 
flowed  out  of  little  wounds,  but  they  dried 
up  as  they  ran. 

They  came  to  the  field  of  juniper  shrubs, 
and  rushed  madly  through  the  soft  white  sand. 
Their  feet  sank  deep  into  it;  they  began  to 
slow  down.  If  only  he  could  hide  here.  But  the 
giant  'was  taller  than  the  shrubs  and  could 
follow  all  his  movements.  On  —  On! 

He  dM  not  know  where  to  turn;  when  he 
reached  the  end  of  the  juniper  field  he  could 
not  go  across  the  border.  The  custom-house 
officials  would  see  him;  they  had  rifles  and 
would  surely  shoot  him  if  he  did  not  stop  at 
their  bidding.  They  were  always  on  the  lookout 
for  smugglers  at  all  times.  And  one  word  from 
Garst  about  the  murder  wthich  he  had  confessed 
would  be  enough  to 

No,  he  must  go  back,  he  must  run  towards 
the  marsh,  where  Schepers'  sheep  were  grazing; 
there  was  no  one  there  but  Soer,  the  shepherd 
boy.  And  he  turned  to  the  right  with  a  wide 
curve,  and  ran  in  the  direction  of  the  marsh. 

Garst  was  a  long  way  behind.  Joop  began 
to  get  tired.  He  would  go  slower,  and  recover 
a  little.  He  did  it,  and  then  he  heard  his  own 
panting,  which  he  had  not  noticed  before.  He 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  387 

felt  his  blood  beating  in  his  temples,  and  he 
wiped  the  foam  from  his  mouth.  Oh,  for  a  drink 
of  water  1 

When  he  looked  round,  he  saw  that  Garst 
was  going  slower  too.  He  shouted  again,  a  cry 
of  victory.  But  he  dared  not  go  slowly  for 
long,  and  the  wild  chase  began  again. 

They  came  to  the  marsh.  "Hei  does  not 
know  the  way  here  as  I  do,"  the  fugltiVe 
thought ;  "he  will  stick  in  the  mud,  which  looks 
like  grass." 

But  Garst  knew  the  way  there  too.  And  he 
was  winning,  —  he  seemed  to  be  catching 
up;  Joop's  body  was  a  dissipated  one;  he  was 
strong  and  quick  for  a  time,  but  his  strength 
soon  gave  out.  The  giant  was  fast  catching 
up.  They  jumped  across  ditches;  they  waded 
through  parts  of  the  marsh  which  Joop  knew 
to  be  shallow;  the  water  splashed  up  high 
and  they  drank  with  bent  heads.  But  the  giant 
was  winning.  "That  pool  over  there  is  deep," 
Joop  thought;  "the  water  reaches  to  my  neck; 
it  may  be  my  salvation;  he  will  not  risk  it.*' 
And  he  charged  into  it.  But  the  giant  jumped 
in  too ;  his  height  made  it  easier  for  him  to  get 
on.  They  drank  as  they  went.  When  they 
had  reached  the  other  side  he  was  quite  close 
to  Joop.  The  scamp  yelled,  pulled  himself 


588  DOUBT 

together,  rushed  on;  and  the  wild  chase  began 
again,  once  more  towards  the  open  moor,  to 
where  the  holly  bushes  grew. 

Soer,  the  shepherd  boy,  stood  on  a  hill 
holding  his  long  staff  and  knitting  a  stocking, 
his  dog  beside  him.  "Hist!  Sipie,  be  quiet f 
if  only  they  had  your  legs  I"  And  the  boy  looked 
across  the  moor  calmly,  as  if  it  did  not  concern 
him  that  those  two  people  were  rushing  madly 
along,  each  with  a  large  glittering  knife  in 
his  hand.  "The  big  one  is  winning,  Sipie!" 
he  said,  and  sat  down  on  the  hill,  regretting  that 
he  could  not  see  them  any  more,  for  they  had 
disappeared  in  the  holly  bushes,  the  one  shortly 
after  the  other. 

"Leave  me  alone,  Garst!"  Joop  shrieked, 
without  lookinjg  round.  He  knew  that  the  other 
one  was  close  behind,  only  a  couple  of  feet 
away.  "Leave  me  alone,  Garst!"  he  yelled, 
again.  He  was  only  a  foot  behind  him  now.  — 

He  wanted  to  turn  round,  and  use  his  knife, 
he  wanted  to  live,  to  live,  not  to  die 

But  the  giant's  hand  was  already  coming 
down  on  him,  and  it  thrust  the  glittering  knife 
right  down  his  neck,  between  his  shoulders 
into  his  flesh 

Joop  fell  forward  with  his  face  in  the  prickly 
leaves  of  the  holly,  a  groan  and  then 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  389 

Garst  turned  round  and  went  his  way  calmly, 
as  if  the  affair  had  no  more  interest  for  him. 
Then  he  stopped  to  consider  for  one  moment, 
looking  down  at  the  ground,  and  went  towards 
the  German  border.  He  never  came  back  to  his 
parents. 

There  was  always  a  prodigal  son  in  East- 
loom;  now  Garst  was  the  prodigal  son.  There 
had  always  been  one  in  each  new  generation, 
as  long  as  the  oldest  inhabitants  of  the 
village  could  remember.  It  was  a  fate  over 
the  village. 

When  the  people  heard  about  Garst,  a  great 
sadness  came  over  them;  it  was  on  account  of 
that  fate  from  which  they  could  not  escape. 
They  went  to  church  quietly  and  silently,  with 
bowed  heads.  They  were  ashamed,  as  if  each 
one  had  committed  a  murder  himself. 

That  sense  of  depression  lasted  for  many 
weeks. 

The  shepherd  boy  had  not  remained  lying 
on  the  knoll  after  he  had  heard  Joop's  loud 
yell  coming  from  the  holly  bushes.  "He  has 
got  him,  Sipie!"  he  said,  and  master  and 
dog  jumped  up.  "Now  the  big  one  is  going 
away  alone,  and  the  other  one  is  still  there.  He 
must  be  dead;  shall  we  go  and  look,  Sipie?" 


390  DOUBT 

And  as  the  holly  bushes  were  only  at  a 
little  distance,  the  boy  risked  leaving  his  sheep 
alone. 

The  dog  bounded  on  in  front,  the  boy  came 
a  little  slower;  —  soon  they  found  Joop  lying 
on  the  ground,  his  face  buried  in  the  prickly 
leaves  of  the  holly;  there  was  blood  on  -the 
dark  green  leaves. 

"We  must  turn  him  round,"  the  boy  said, 
"and  see  who  he  isl"  And  he  took  hold  of  the 
wounded  man's  shoulders,  very  carefully,  so 
as  not  to  stain  his  hands  with  the  blood;  for 
he  was  terrified  by  the  sight  of  human  blood. 
He  shivered  as  he  did  it,  but  he  began  to 
work  with  might  and  main,  and  at  last  succee- 
ded. He  could  see  the  face;  the  head  fell 
back,  the  mouth  wide  open.  The  boy  was 
startled,  cried  out  and  let  the  body  fall  back 
into  the  holly.  As  if  he  had  seen  death  itself, 
he  hurried  back  to  his  sheep  quite  out  of 
breath. 

But  by  degrees  he  collected  his  thoughts. 
"Sipiel"  he  said,  "look  after  the  sheep.  I  am 
going  a,way;  I  must  go  and  make  it  known  in 
the  village;  you  must  stay  here.  Do  you 
understand  ?" 

And  the  dog  understood.  He  turned  his 
sensible  head  to  the  grazing  flock  of  sheep; 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  391 

and  as  the  boy  hurried  away,  the  dog  remained 
lying  on  the  knoll,  looking  from  right  to  left, 
as  if  he  had  undertaken  his  master's  task 
with  complete  self-confidence. 

Some  hours  later  the  wounded  man  had 
been  carried  into  Ake's  hut.  He  was  still  alive. 
The  doctor  was  there,  and  he  stayed  there  all 
afternoon.  "He  may  live  another  day,  but  he 
will  not  recover,"  was  his  verdict.  The  mayor 
also  had  come  with  the  village  constable.  He 
was  told  to  return  in  the  evening.  "Perhaps 
he  will  tell  you  something,"  the  doctor  had 
said.  And  when  the  night  fell,  there  were  three 
men  keeping  watch  over  the  dying  man; 
Senserff,  Schepers,  uid  the  village  constable. 

It  was  dark  in  the  hut;  there  was  no  lamp 
and  no  candle.  Sometimes  the  men  sat  inside, 
sometimes  they  stood  outside  in  the  moonlight. 

Senserff  paced  backwards  and  forwards 
constantly,  as  if  he  were  trying  to  avoid  the 
other  men;  he  preferred  to  be  alone,  either 
inside  or  outside.  He  was  very  restless,  for  he 
felt  that  a  difficult  task  would  be  laid  upon 
him  when  that  dying  man  should  speak  later 
on,  a  task  such  as  can  only  be  laid  on  the 
shepherd  who  shall  be  called  upon  by  the 
Great  Judge  to  account  for  even  the  least 
of  his  flock.  He  was  still  under  the  impression 


392  DOUBT 

of  the  conversation  with  his  father-in-law;  his 
doubts  had  not  yet  passed  away;  he  was  not 
quite  himself.  And,  good  heavens !  it  was  in  this 
mood  that  he  was  called  upon  to  comfort  a 
dying  man.  He  cursed  his  doubts,  although 
he  could  not  possibly  drive  them  away  at  his 
own  will, 

This  is  how  the  minister  accomplished  his 
task: 

After  midnight,  towards  the  break  of  day, 
while  he  was  alone  with  him,  Joop  recovered 
consiousness.  Senserff  had  left  him  for  an 
hour  or  more.  He  had  done  nothing  at  all;  he 
had  only  given  him  a  drink  of  water  every 
now  and  then. 

"I  must  die,  sir,  must  I  not?"  the  man 
said  at  last  in  a  soft  voice. 

"Yes,  Joop,  you  cannot  be  cured,"  Senserff 
said,  for  he  belonged  to  those  people  who 
consider  it  a  terrible  breach  of  faith  towards 
a  dying  man  to  leave  him  in  ignorance  of  his 
condition.  He  always  told  the  members  of  his 
congregation  candidly  when  he  knew  there  was 
no  hope, 

"Say  something  to  me,  sir!" 

"Oh  God,  surely  I  cannot  be  a  hypocrite 
and  tell  this  man  things  that  I  do  not  believe 
at  the  present  moment,"  he  almost  gasped. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  393 

He  despised  himself  for  trying  to  evade  the 
dying  man's  request  by  a  question;  but  he 
could  not  help  it.  "What  would  you  like  to 
hear  about,  Joop?" 

"About  Jesus." 

The  minister  understood  that  at  this  moment 
old  feelings  which  had  long  slumbered  were 
roused  in  the  man.  "Would  you  like  me  to 
tell  you  what  your  old  minister  told  you  at 
your  confirmation  class,  when  you  were  a 
little  boy?" 

"Yes;    I    wish    I   were   a   little   boy   again." 

And  the  minister  began,  —  there  was  no 
hypocrisy  about  this,  fortunately,  —  he  was 
only  telling  a  story.  He  began  in  an  almost 
monotonous  tone  of  voice,  as  good  story-tellers 
should  always  do.  But,  as  he  went  on,  his 
voice  grew  warmer,  but  not  louder.  No  one 
could  tell  a  story  better  than  Senserff  did. 
It  seemed  to  the  wounded  man  as  if  he  were 
once  more  a  little  boy,  listening  to  his  minister 
in  the  old  room  behind  the  church.  The  scenes 
at  Jesus'  dieath  on  the  cross,  —  he  saw  them 
all;  Senserff  described  them  all  in  detail,  as 
a  good  story-teller  should  do,  one  scene  after 
another.  Quietly  and  melodiously  the  old  story 
sounded  in  the  still  night.  And  when  he 
had  finished  there  was  almost  no  transition 


394  DOUBT 

between  the  last  word  and  the  silence  that 
followed. 

"Do  you  want  to  h<nr  any  more,  Joop?" 

"No,  sir,  it  is  enough  now." 

"No,  not  enough,"  'Senserff  said,  almost  too 
loudly,  remembering  his  ministership.  It  was 
very  poetic  to  let  anyone  die  while  under  the 
impression  of  a  story,  and  such  a  story,  too; 
but  his  dogmatic  character  would  not  allow 
him  to  do  that.  "Joop,  I  must  know  whether 
you  believe  that  now'? ?  Senserff  was  almost 
startled  when  foe  had  put  the  question;  for 
did  he  .really  believe  it  himself  ?  But  Joop  was 
quite  ready  with  his  answer. 

"I  have  always  believed  it.  When  I  swore 
worst  of  all,  among  the  dock-workers,  I  always 
believed  it.  Only  I  swore  in  spite  of  it." 

"What  is  the  difference  then,  Joop,  between 
then  and  now?"  the  minister  said  with  fear  in 
his  voice. . 

"The  difference  is  that  now  I  do  not  want 
to  swear  in  spite  of  it,  —  now  I  believe  for 
the  first  time  as  a  grateful  man.  It  is  a  good 
thing  for  a  man  such  as  I  am  that  Jesus 
obtained  forgiveness  for  us...  At  least,  if..." 

Here  the  man  sighed,  deeply  and  long. 

"Are  you  in  pain  ?" 

"No,  no,  it  is  not  that,  that  does  not  count. 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  395 

Give  me  your  hand  upon  it,  sir,  that  Jesus 
did  it  for  me."  He  pu,t  out  a,  big,  rough  hand 
to  the  minister. 

Senserff  hesitated;  the  doctrine  of  the 
elect 

"Where  is  your  hatncf  ?  I  cannot  see,"  the  man 
groaned. 

With  an  effort,  which  he  never  regretted 
afterwards,  the  charitable  man,  more  than  the 
dogmatic  man,  put  out  his  hand  and  grasped 
the  hand  of  the  vagabond  who  wantjed  to 
believe. 

Later  on,  it  was  a  dead  hand  which  he  held 
in  his  own. 

In  the  morning  Senserff  went  home.  He 
did  not  want  Schepers  to  accompany  him. 
How  could  he  talk  to  an  elder  of  the 
Dissenting  Church?  If  only  he  had  done  it  I 
The  elder  would  not  have  contradicted 
him.  Even  Niesink,  the  bee-farmer,  would  not 
have  thought  or  acted  differently  that  morning. 

"WJien  the  feeling  of  sinfulness  was  aroused 
in  Joop,  then  need  for  reconciliation  arose; 
and  where  that  need  was,  there  faith  came 
naturally;"  he  argued  with  himself.  "Can  my 
father-in-law  be  right  when  he  says  that 
doubting  has  its  origin  in  the  attraction  of  the 


396  DOUBT 

immoral?  Then,  in  my  case,  the  doubting 
originated  after  living  for  weeks  convinced  of 
my  own  righteousness,  so  that  I  did  not  feel 
the  need  of  redemption." 

He  saw  Walter  coming  towards  him.  He 
told  him  all.  "Do  you  at  all  times  believe  in 
the  redemption?"  he  asked. 

"I  believe  most  when  I  feel  most  sinful;  at 
other  times  I  believe  it  less.  Self-righteousness 
is  the  greatest  enemy  of  faith;  the  doubt  of 
believers  can  hardly  originate  in  anything  else/' 

Here  they  had  come  to  the  parting  of  their 
roads. 

Senserff  felt  deeply  dismayed.  The  minister 
of  the  Reformed  Church,  who  went  his  way 
so  cheerfully,  had  understood  it  all  long  ago. 
"He  is  not  as  cheerful  as  he  seems,"  Senserff 
thought;  "he  pretends  to  be  for  the  sake  of 
the  sorrowful  ones.  I  see  it  all;  he  has  long 
since  known  the  enemy  of  his  faith;  the 
immorality  of  self-righteousness.  He  secretly 
weeps  about  his  sins,  and  that  is  why  his  faith 
is  greater  than  mine." 

"Self -righteousness  is  the  greatest  enemy  of 
faith,  the  doubting  of  believers  can  hardly 
originate  in  anything  else;"  Senserff  repeated, 
as  he  entered  his  house. 

After  that  day  the  minister  of  the  Dissenting 


IDYLLS  OF  A  DUTCH  VILLAGE  397 

Churdh   was  cured  of  his  doubts  for  a  con- 
siderable time 
And  his  parish  gained  by  it  beyond  measure. 


"How  many  ministers  have  you  Reformed 
members  got?"  Wiegen  asked  Raders  one 
evening,  as  the  men  stood  talking  on  the 
Square. 

"One,  of  course,"  the  latter  answered, 
-Walter!" 

"And  how  many  ministers  have  you 
Dissenters  got?"  he  enquired  of  Schepers. 

"Also  one,  of  course,"  he  answered, 
"Sanserif!" 

"Then  my  parish  is  better  of  than  yqurs," 
Wiegen  said  laughingly;  ''we  have  them  both, 
Senserff  and  Walter." 

"We  have  also  all  the  elders,"  he  added, 
"for  all  your  elders  and  deacons  belong  to  my 
Church.  And,  besides  that,  a  good  many 
members  of  both  congregations  belong  to  my 
Church." 

And,  as  he  said  this,  he  smiled,  as  someone 
does  who  sees  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  coming. 

"What  a  dreamer!"  Raders  and  Schepers 
both  thought. 


lis 


A     000028986 


